Right. Because nothing said casual burnout like working for the rival company that dragged us back here, job offer and threat braided into a leash. No longer King Enterprises—the place she worked at back then, the one whose walls she saw blood spill behind—now it was Dunn pulling the strings.
I stabbed a forkful of couscous. “Everything okay at work?”
Her hand froze around her wineglass. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” I said lightly. “You’ve seemed… tense lately.”
She didn’t respond right away. She took a long sip then set the glass down with exaggerated care. Silence thickened between us. Finally, she spoke, voice pitched lower. “There was a new audit team brought in this week. People I haven’t seen before. They’re asking a lot of questions.”
That was all she gave me. But it was more than I expected. My fork paused. “Audit team?”
She shrugged, pushing couscous around her plate, appetite gone. “They said it was standard. Something about consolidatinglegacy accounts. Cleaning up numbers. But no one’s explaining anything clearly. It just feels… off.”
Legacy accounts. Cleaning up numbers. That was exactly how they’d worded her new position when they dragged us back—bookkeeping dressed up as financial consulting. Pretty enough on the outside. Rotten underneath.
And now an audit team shows up? My gut twisted. What if they weren’t here to clean anything—just to pin the rot on her and call it done?
“What kind of questions?”
Her gaze snapped up, sharp enough to slice. “Mila.”
I blinked. “What? I asked. I didn’t say I was going to do anything.”
“You need to stay out of this,” she murmured, but her eyes didn’t soften. “Do you understand me?”
I nodded. But I didn’t mean it. Because I could feel it in her voice, in her body—something had shifted. She was scared again.
We finished the meal in silence, plates scraping, the hum of the refrigerator filling the spaces where words should’ve gone.
Later, I sprawled across my bed with the lights off, my laptop open in front of me, pretending to study. Not that my brain was cooperating. All I could think about was her voice at the table.Audit team. Legacy accounts. Questions.
Someone was stirring up dust. Which meant either they were cleaning house… or trying to bury something before it resurfaced.
I opened the encrypted messaging app Luke and I had set up.
Mila:Mom said a new audit team is digging around old accounts. No names, but she looked spooked. She didn’t say it, but I think she’s worried. Something’s off. We definitely need to talk after the game.
I hesitated. Then added:And no more locker chats with Elise unless you want me to burn down your side of the courtyard.
Three dots appeared instantly.
Luke:So you were jealous. Noted. Also… you still owe me a thank you for not laughing when you stomped across the quad like a five-foot hurricane.
Mila:Keep talking and I’ll prove hurricanes do more than stomp.
Luke:Already felt it. When you kissed me as if you wanted to drown me the other night.
My stomach jolted.
Mila:Careful, King. You’ll choke on your own ego.
Luke:Not ego. Memory. I can still taste you, Mila. Salt and fire. You didn’t seem as if you wanted to stop.
Heat rushed up my neck. My fingers hovered. Stupid to answer. Stupider not to.
Luke:I know I didn’t.
Mila:That was last night.
