Page 24 of Dagger

It wasn’t just the question. It was the look in Piper’s eyes. Curiosity. Interest. Attraction.

Her stomach twisted, hot and tight, her nails biting into her palms beneath the table. It shouldn’t bother her. It wasn’t like Dagger was hers. How could he even look at her after all that she had done, all her terrible flaws? That thought made her cringe, made fear and uncertainty flare like a supernova. Brian’s memory wavered like the heat rising off the desert floor, blurry, indistinct.I don’t want him.Her treacherous body laughed like a demon.

She’d needed to hate him.

She’d spent two years hating him.

Letting that rage keep her steady, keep her balanced, keep her from slipping into the abyss. But this, this was different. Piper’s attraction to him, her interest, sat wrong in Quinn’s gut, pooling low and bitter, curling inside her like something ugly and jealous.

She had spent years refusing to think of Brian that way,imperfect. It felt disloyal. Like tarnishing the memory of a man who had loved her, who had fathered her children, who had died a hero. But the truth didn’t need her permission to exist.

A memory surfaced. The one she had locked away so tightly she sometimes wondered if she’d imagined it. But now, it surfaced, raw, unbidden, and it shattered everything, shook the foundation she’d built her grief on, cracked it open, and let thoughts spill through she’d never dared admit. Not even to herself.

The twins had been just shy of two when Brian and Dagger built them a swing set in the backyard. She’d stood at the window, arms crossed, a glass of water sweating in her palm, watching the two brothers work in the thick Virginia heat. The light was golden, clinging to the last hours of the day, and both men were shirtless, sweat-slicked, muscles flexing as they lifted the beam into place.

So similar.

So achingly similar.

Broad shoulders. Strong backs. That easy way of moving like their bodies justknewhow to do things. Brothers. Nearly indistinguishable in frame and presence.

Dagger had edged out Brian. Just slightly. Just enough for her to feel it. The way his forearms knotted with control as he tightened the bolts. The sharpness in his focus. The quiet intensity seemed to hold more than just strength.

She had hated that she noticed it.

Brian had loved her. That was never the question. But his love had never made room for her dreams. He didn’t tell her no. He was too gentle for that. Too good at shaping her world with soft smiles and subtle words. He made herfeellike she had everything she needed. That wanting more was ungrateful.

That fight… God, that fight.

She’d come home flushed with excitement. Her boss had offered her a career-making project, lead architect on a multi-million-dollar museum renovation. A chance to step out of the shadows and build something that would outlast her.

Brian had blinked slowly.Why stress yourself out, baby? You’ve already made it.

She’d argued. His mom could help with the boys. He wouldn’t be overwhelmed.She could do this.But he’d only smiled that maddening, patient smile and said,“You don’t have anything to prove.”

Somehow, that was worse than a flat-outno. Because it made her feelsillyfor wanting it. Like she was the one upsetting the balance. Like she was selfish for dreaming.

She’d let it go. Folded herself down and tucked her ambition behind that tight smile wives wore when they were supposed to be grateful. She'd told herself she was okay.

Then Dagger had shown up.

She remembered how he’d taken one look at her, eyes narrowing with that unflinching gaze, and asked,“What happened?”

She’d tried to shrug it off. Just something dumb. Nothing worth repeating. She was fine.

But Dagger hadn’t let her hide. Not then. Not ever.

You know not just anybody gets through Cornell’s program with honors,”he’d said, his voice low, steady, like he was reciting a fact she’d forgotten. “You worked your ass off for that degree. You earned that job. You could blow your boss’s expectations out of the water, hell, your own, too. But you’re standing here talking like someone who doesn’t know how fucking brilliant she is.”

She had stammered, tried to defend Brian. “He’s just looking out for me. He wants me to be happy.”But Dagger had reminded her of the long nights at Cornell, endless hours hunched over drafting tables, her fingers stained with graphite and ink, eyes bloodshot from chasing deadlines that didn’t care if you slept or ate or broke down in the bathroom between critiques.

But Dagger’s expression had only darkened at her response. Not with judgment, but with the kind of protective fury she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of.

No,he said.He’s keeping you small. He’s dressing it up as love, but what he really wants is for you to stay right where he put you. Because if you grow, if you become everything you were meant to be, he’s afraid you’ll outgrow him.

She’d snapped. Told him he was wrong. That he didn’t understand. That he had no right.

But some part of her, quiet and trembling, had known he was right.

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