He’d said yes.

Hazard King was down to meet.

Azalea leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen as her mind raced about what was next.

She had to get ready. Bring the right info. Make sure she had something that gave her an edge beyond just the basic threat.

Because now that Hazard King had replied, now that he was in, she was all in too.

No backing out now.

She shut her laptop and stood up, heading toward the window overlooking the city.

Somewhere out there, Hazard King and Lunel were gearing up as well.

They were all headed toward the same goal.

Taking down Alpha Dark.

Azalea smiled.

"Soon," she said softly. "Very soon."

But her real reason for going after Alpha Dark was still a secret.

*****

In a different penthouse on the other side of the city, Zayn Cole Virelli stood shirtless by the huge windows, wearing only boxers, sipping a cup of coffee.

The morning sunlight poured in, warming him up. Below, the city was alive and buzzing, totally unaware of what was on his mind.

But all Zayn could think about was last night.

Emma.

He remembered how she looked in that white floral dress, her curls spilling over her shoulders. He could picture her frozen on the rooftop when the fireworks went off and how she cried when he proposed.

He still felt her in his arms, her face against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt.

The way she had said she felt safe with him kept playing in his head.

Zayn smiled at his coffee.

She hadn’t said yes.

But she hadn’t said no either.

And that was good enough. More than good enough.

Because Emma feeling safe with him meant everything. It showed that she trusted him on a deep level, way beyond logic or reason, especially since they had only known each other for a week.

A week.

It sounded crazy when he thought about it that way.

But Zayn had never been more sure of anything in his life.

Suddenly, the door to his penthouse swung open.

Zayn didn’t even turn around. "Hi, Mom."

"You really should lock your door," Isabella Virelli said, striding in with a confidence that made it seem like she owned the place.

Isabella was in her late fifties but looked about ten years younger. She was in fancy workout clothes that probably cost more than what most people pay in rent. Her hair was perfectly styled, even at eight in the morning, and her makeup was spot on. She was the kind of woman who could walk into a board meeting or a charity gala without missing a beat.

Right now, she was staring at her phone, scrolling through something with a little frown.

"Why’s my son grinning like that?" Isabella asked without looking up. "Hmm?"

Zayn turned around, still smiling. "Like what?"

"Like you just won the lottery. Or figured out the meaning of life. Or," she looked up, noticed his expression, and trailed off. Her eyes narrowed. "Or had a really awesome date."

Zayn’s smile got even bigger.

Isabella set her phone down on the counter. "Spill the beans right now."

"The dinner with her was great," Zayn said casually.

Isabella stared at him, trying to wrap her head around what he just said. "Wait. What?"

Zayn nodded. "Yeah. I went to dinner with her. And I proposed."

For a long moment, Isabella just blinked at him. Then she burst out laughing, not a polite chuckle, but a full-on, genuine, slightly shocked laugh that echoed throughout the whole penthouse.

"Look at you," she said, shaking her head. "Look at my son. You met this girl when? A week ago?"

"Seven days," Zayn confirmed.

"Seven days," Isabella repeated slowly, as if trying to wrap her brain around it. "And you’ve already decided to marry her? You proposed? Zayn, babe, what are you thinking?"

"That I love her," Zayn replied simply, like it was the most natural thing.

Isabella’s expression softened right away. She moved closer and reached up to touch his face. "You’re serious."

"Totally."

"And what did she say?"

"She cried. A lot. Then she said she needed some time to think. But she also said," he lowered his voice. "She feels safe with me. That she’s never felt that way with anyone else before."

Isabella looked at her son for a long moment. "So she didn’t say yes."

"She didn’t say no," Zayn shot back.

"That’s not quite the same, my love."

"I know. But it’s enough for now." Zayn took a sip of his coffee. "She’s scared. That’s okay. I’ll wait as long as she needs."

Isabella was quiet for a second, just looking at him. Then she said, "You’re moving pretty fast. Maybe you should take a break and get to know her better before jumping into this."

"Mom," Zayn gently interrupted, a playful twinkle in his eye, "at least I’m not like your older son."

Isabella raised one eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Zayden," Zayn said, grinning. "He’s had her living with him, working with him, and taking risks with him for how long now? Months? And he still hasn’t asked her to marry him. Mom, she’s my friend, Aylin. You should be talking to him about taking things easy, not me."

Isabella tried to look serious, but her lips started twitching, and before she knew it, she was laughing again. "You’re terrible."

"I’m just being real."

"Your brother has his reasons," Isabella replied, heading to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee without asking. "His situation is pretty complicated."

"So is mine," Zayn shot back. "Emma’s dad is Alexander Kane. You know what that means. I’ve told you everything."

Isabella paused. When she spoke next, her voice was more careful. "I know."

"And I’m still going to propose to her," Zayn said firmly. "I’m still going after her because I love her. She’s worth it, no matter how messy it gets."

Isabella put her coffee down and looked seriously at her youngest son. "Do you really understand what you’re getting yourself into?"

Does He Understand? Seven Days Enough?