12 "The most dangerous man in New York offered me ten million dollars as a joke, never imagining the shy waitress in the corner could read the secret that would destroy everyone in the room.

Constantine barely had time to turn before Dominic smashed through the glass partition of the server room.

The confrontation was swift, violent, and brutal. Dominic disarmed the first mercenary with a shattering elbow to the throat, seizing his weapon and firing two rapid shots into the second guard before Constantine could raise his gun.

Constantine lunged forward, firing wild shots. One bullet grazed Dominic's shoulder, tearing through his tuxedo jacket, but Dominic didn't even flinch. He hit Constantine like a freight train, slamming the older man against the central server console, breaking glass and metal alike.

They crashed to the floor, wrestling for control of the weapon.

"Dominic!" I yelled, seeing Constantine pull a tactical blade from his boot, aiming it at Dominic's exposed side.

Without thinking, I grabbed a heavy iron fire extinguisher mounted on the wall and swung it with all my strength, striking Constantine across the side of his head.

Constantine groaned, collapsing sideways, the knife slipping from his limp fingers.

Dominic stood up, breathing heavily, blood seeping through the dark fabric of his sleeve. He looked down at Constantine, then turned his gaze to me, his eyes wide with shock and fierce admiration.

"I told you," I panted, wiping a strand of blonde hair out of my face, "I'm not furniture."

Dominic let out a breathless, triumphant laugh. He stepped over Constantine's unconscious body, pulling me into his arms, crushing his mouth against mine in a desperate, passionate kiss that wiped away the remaining terror of the night. His lips were hot, demanding, and full of a possessive tenderness that made my knees weak.

When he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, he whispered, "The file... did it finish?"