The door shuddered under violent pounding.

Shane Prescott narrowed his eyes, spinning a throwing knife between his fingers with lethal grace.

Kyle Grant rested a hand on his holstered pistol. Their gazes locked.

"I'll handle this," Shane murmured.

Kyle shook his head. "Bullets are faster."

The lock clicked open.

A gun barrel pressed against the intruder's forehead.

"Ahhh!" A shrill scream pierced the air.

Willow Grant stood frozen, her face ghostly pale, hands clutching her head. "Have you lost your minds? I'm your mother!"

Kyle holstered his weapon. "Why didn't you announce yourself?"

"Since when do I need permission to knock?" Willow stormed in, her glare slicing toward Shane. "What filthy business are you two hiding?"

Shane's expression turned glacial.

Kyle stepped between them. "Mother. Watch your tongue."

"Watch what?" Willow's voice rose to a shriek. "The entire auction house is gossiping about you!"

Sylvia Laurent arrived in a flutter of skirts.

"Auntie, it's a misunderstanding," she soothed.

Willow jerked away from her touch. "Spare me your act!"

A vein throbbed at Kyle's temple.

He pulled Sylvia close. "See clearly. This is my girlfriend."

Sylvia's eyes widened.

Shane arched an eyebrow.

Around the corridor's bend, Adrian Sullivan crushed his cigarette, a smirk twisting his lips.

Adjusting his tie, he strode toward Victor Sullivan's suite.

"Father, there's something you should know..."

Victor's face darkened as he listened.

When he burst into Shane's room, he found Kyle toweling damp hair from his face.

"Disgraceful!" Victor slammed a fist on the table.

Shane lazily twirled his knife. "Care to test its sharpness, Director Sullivan?"

Kyle polished his pistol. "Or my aim?"

Victor retreated two steps, sweat beading on his forehead.

The hallway lights stretched his fleeing shadow into something grotesque.

These weren't sons.

They were a pair of untamed wolf cubs.