The warning hit Andrés like a dash of cold water, and he nodded an acknowledgment. With a last, long look, Liv made her exit, her black wig swishing.

She might allow him to be the master in the bedroom, but she truly did have him by the balls. Still, the idea of having an equal partner both aroused and comforted him, rather than drawing resentment or fear.

It would also make it that much more fun to dominate her the next time he had her in private.

Dropping into the chair behind his desk, Andrés spent the time before his next meeting researching and purchasing a new toy. This is going to be good.

There was no time to rub one out before the meeting started, but it was the first thing he did when he got to his private room in Perdition that afternoon. His little bird had returned and things were going his way for once.

***

As much as he wanted to get to Liv's punishment, Andrés decided he needed to be patient. It wasn't just awaiting the arrival of his purchase; he needed to rebuild her trust first. He owed her that much.

He decided to woo her again, starting from the beginning. That weekend he invited her to his Regent's Park flat, forcing himself to let her into the parts of his life he'd kept secret. She was thrown off balance by the luxurious new setting and mused on his choice of a strip club and bar as a workspace.

"You can do better than Perdition, don't you think?" she teased, looking around admiringly.

"Sure, if I wanted to make my position obvious," he said, taking her leather jacket. "But working from the shadows keeps people like Imogen and Zoë guessing. Why else would I keep everything quiet?"

Her laugh set his heart to skipping, even when she said, "Shadows. Yeah. You are pretty shady."

So. Not quite over his usage of her just yet. "I still have my charms though, right?" he teased with a wink, automatically going for disarmingly flirtatious.

Liv's smirk as her eyes darted to his half-open shirt said she'd permit it, and his confidence grew. He extended his hand. She looked at it, then at him, weighing something in her mind before she taking it and allowing him to lead her deeper into the flat.

When he commented lightly that they weren't going to engage in games just yet her eyes narrowed, but she settled once he explained that he was going to let her get to know him properly first.

That look came back to her eyes when he said that, the one that might be love, mingled with a release of tension in her shoulders he thought she probably hadn't been aware of. As much as he wanted to simply tie her up and have her it didn't feel right to jump straight back into bondage games with so much hanging between them and he was glad that she was willing to follow his lead.

Of course, his motives weren't entirely altruistic; he intended to keep her this time, and was willing to do what it took to win her back – no, to earn her – completely. She was too valuable to lose again. The part of him that had been a hitman and enforcer wouldn't calm fully until he was certain she was well in hand. The part of him that loved her intended to keep her.

She hovered as he finished preparing the stuffed crabs and salad he'd started earlier, unwilling to sit whilst he worked and apparently fascinated by the idea that he could cook a gourmet meal. They enjoyed their dinner, talking about the upcoming acquisition of IQ Security and Liv's ideas for a series of refugee support initiatives around the country for those fleeing the effects of climate change, struggling to adjust to an overfull London with too many people and too few opportunities.

Andrés found himself warming to the idea, and not just because it would be a good PR move for Surefire to sponsor one. It gave him a chance to be something more than he had been up to now. Someone...good. Or better, at least. While she insisted on going via the Commission for the first one, she promised him he could help with one in future.

Once everything was settled, they moved to the living room. Andrés hoped it would inspire a certain mood. Even if he wasn't going to tie her down, he ached for more of her.

He'd been startled to realize that it had only been three and a half months since they'd met; with everything that had happened, it felt like it had been much longer. Summer had turned into autumn, and this evening a gale was blowing harsh spits of rain against the windows, adding to the atmosphere. They were warm inside, cuddled under a blanket in front of a low fire, drinking red wine instead of their customary rum.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a closet romantic," Liv said as he flicked on some jazz and topped up her glass of Malbec.

"I guess there's a lot you don't know," he admitted, wincing at her derisive snort as he replaced the bottle on the side table. Slinging an arm around her shoulder to draw her close, he bought himself a moment by burying his nose in her hair and breathing in the light orange flower scent of her perfume. The romantic streak was there, but it was probably the least of the things he'd hidden from her. Time to come clean, he thought, nervousness spiking through him.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "My arrival in London wasn't exactly...legal. Neither was my work. There are people who would happily see me dead, either for what I've done or because I'm no longer doing it." Leaning back, he tilted her face toward him, trying to gauge her reaction.

She gazed back at him steadily. No distaste or shock colored her features as she waited for his next words but Andrés's gut still tightened.

"I don't want to keep things from you anymore, Liv. Not after what happened." He meant it. It would be difficult, but he'd seen the damage it could cause when he actually cared about the other person – perhaps especially when he tried not to.

She shifted, turning her body toward him and peering up at him. He met her eyes until she dropped her head onto his shoulder. "No more secrets," she said, a little sullenly. "You're going to hand me the decryption key, just like that?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help but laugh. Trust a hacker to use a computer metaphor.

"What?" she prompted, looking at him again. A small frown indented her brow, and he kissed it.

"You'd rather try hacking me like you did my office?"

She groaned. "I walked into that, didn't I?"

"You did," he said with a pleased chuckle, sipping his wine and savoring the full, rich flavors of black fruit and sage.

Liv huffed a sigh, taking a deep swallow of her own wine and making an appreciative noise. "Shit, this is good."

Andrés toasted her, pleased that she was enjoying what he served. They drank in silence until her glass was nearly finished.

As he reached for the bottle to top her up, she said, "You don't have to just hand over the key, Andrés. You'll have secrets. It's human. I mean fuck, I have secrets. Just don't be a dick and hide shit that's important, okay? No lies, even by omission. Promise me that, and I'll do the same. And stay out of your shit."

Andrés mulled that over. It was more than fair, and probably more than he deserved, but what made him agree was that it was ultimately more realistic than his initial proposal. "Okay. Thank you," he replied, feeling his throat thicken with emotion.

"You're welcome, but for what?" She sounded genuinely confused as the hand not holding her wine glass rubbed his thigh soothingly under the light blanket. His cock stirred at the intimacy of her touch and he kissed the top of her head again, breathing in the soothing familiarity of her scent.

"Forgiving me." She'd broken in and taken up residence in his heart. Her forgiveness meant the world.

Wordlessly, Liv tilted her head up and kissed him. She broke away after a moment, setting her nearly finished wine glass aside. Andrés followed suit, anticipation heating his blood. Climbing onto his lap, she deepened the kiss, and he was reminded of their first night out in the club. Then, he had dipped a hand inside her shirt to pinch a nipple. Now, he could simply take it off of her.

As he rolled the garment up and over her head, Andrés noted a small scar he didn't remember on her left bicep. It looked fairly fresh, but he couldn't imagine how she'd have managed to scratch herself so deeply in such an awkward location. "What's this?" he asked, fingering it.

Her eyes were savagely challenging as she met his gaze. "You didn't think I'd break into your office without insurance, did you?"

Andrés blinked, then frowned, running his thumb over the small mark. "A microchip?" he guessed after a few seconds, pressing against it to discover a slim shape the width of his thumb while she squirmed slightly.

"Keyed to Anansi, with a failsafe in case anything...permanent...happened to me," she confirmed.

She may not have had a physical exit, then, but she'd had a way out. If Andrés had suspected he'd underestimated Liv upon discovering her in his office, he was sure of it now.

They stared at each other expressionlessly, each taking the measure of the other. She's too dangerous.

Liv smiled darkly, eyes glittering with feral mirth, and in that moment they reached a perfect understanding.

Andrés would never truly have the upper hand with her. He could accept it, and she would accept him. Or he could try to control her, and she would destroy him with methods that would reach beyond the grave.

The thought unexpectedly aroused him. With a swift movement, he threw the blanket aside, flipping her sideways and then onto her back against the couch cushions, tugging her hair to bare her throat. She gasped, crying out in surprise and clutching at his shoulders. The faintest hint of fear tinged her expression, but lust was there, too – just as it had been the day he let her go. The heady mixture brought him to full arousal.

"Well played, little bird." He heard the chill in his own voice, saw the flicker in her eyes and the goosebumps racing down her arms as she realized she was dealing with the Raven now. It was new for both of them, this brutal honesty of who he could be.

Still, he held himself back. Some lines would not be crossed.

At least, not until she whispered, "Fuck me."

Then he was only too happy to oblige, releasing her hair to devote both hands to undoing first his jeans, then her skintight leather trousers. Folding her legs up against her, he let her heels fall over his shoulders and yanked the trousers over her ass just enough to bare her to him, then slicked a finger along her opening. She was as wet as ever, ready for him, and he didn't hesitate to drive into her without any further foreplay.

Nails gouged his shoulder blades through his shirt as she writhed under him. Nipping teeth drew blood from his lower lip, making him snarl and thrust harder, trying to master her in the only arena he could. The folds of her leather trousers pinched at him, adding to the sensations of her nails and teeth.

Contorted as she was, restricted by her own clothing, she couldn't fight him very effectively. It didn't stop her from trying, and dominating her like this was so arousing that it took every ounce of control for him to bring her to climax first.

Liv screamed when she came, nosing into the opening of his half-unbuttoned shirt and biting the top of his chest. He returned the favor, marking her neck solidly. You are mine, and I'm yours, he thought as his balls clenched and he spilled his seed into her.

She sprawled beneath him on the couch afterward, one leg hanging off, playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. Andrés rested on her breast, listening to her heart beat in her chest with one ear and the pleasant crackling of the fire with the other. He sighed contentedly as fear melted away fully for the first time in weeks.

"Better?" Liv asked. He nodded against her bare skin, caressing a nipple to make her shiver. "Yeah. Me too," she murmured.

***

Andrés took Liv on dates every night of the next week. Simple things, like a walk in the park, a late night at the British Museum, or out dancing, and more extravagant evenings, like dinner in an expensive restaurant overlooking the city. By the time his purchase arrived, they'd resumed their old rhythms and Liv's laugh flowed freely at his quips and witticisms.

He answered more questions about himself and his past than he ever had, with anyone. As strange as it felt to tell the truth, there was a certain relief in opening up. Some of what he said made her frown consideringly, or moved her to tears, or made her look a little sick.

After one revelation about a hit that had included torture she stood and walked away for a few minutes, disturbed, but then came back and kissed him, thanking him for his honesty. Andrés had waited those minutes in fear that his admission was unacceptable, that she was going to leave him, and relief strangled him when she returned.

Her return set him to shaking as the import of his confession and the extent of her assent crashed down on him. She soothed him by straddling his lap, hands running up and down his arms as her forehead rested against his. He clung to her, feeling some of the jagged edges of what he'd been begin to heal, humbled by her acceptance of who he'd been and his continuing efforts to be a better man.

That was the day he realized he would do anything for this woman.