Elise played angles. Logan pressed pressure points. Different tactics, same goal—waiting for the crack they could split wide open.
My reflection floated on the pool’s surface. Eyes darker in the blue. A stranger if I stared long enough. Part of me wanted to sink back into that rooftop kiss with Mila, forget the rest. The other part—the one raised where every glance was leverage, every handshake was a threat—knew better.
Theo was already in motion. I’d told him to keep Tori talking. She was one of Elise’s closest friends, had that Dunn internship, and was into Theo. She heard things from Elise. Saw the quiet stuff. If there was a campaign building, if midlevels were moving, if personnel got shuffled—Tori would catch a piece of it without knowing why. Theo could get it out of her without tipping her off. We would meet, match it against what Mila gave me, then cross-check with what Drew flagged on the business side.
Find the thread. Pull until the whole thing unraveled.
I pushed to my feet and looked out across the water. The surface stayed calm. My face blurred in the dark sheet, a shadow carved across my jaw.
Mila was right. This town had a ruling order. And if she was in danger, then maybe it was my turn to tear it down.
CHAPTER THREE
MILA
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, screen flaring against the dark. I checked the time. Midnight. The kind of hour that made everything feel lonelier, heavier, more dangerous.
Luke:You awake?
A jolt shot through me—sudden, electric, low in my chest, sparking everywhere I didn’t want it to. My fingers hovered above the screen. I stared at it a beat too long before answering.
Me:Yeah.
Three dots blinked, disappeared, blinked again.
Luke:What are you doing?
Me:Trying to sleep. Failing.
A pause.
Luke:Same. Pool deck. Stars are too loud tonight.
My lips twitched despite myself. Stars, too loud. That was Luke—athlete and poet in the same breath, without even realizing he was both.
Me:Still your favorite spot, huh?
Luke:One of them. Hard to top all the nights we stargazed. Remember the lifeguard tower?
The memory slid in uninvited—me tucked against him, the hiss of the waves, his hand pointing out constellations while I pretended to care more about Orion than the way his heart beat against my shoulder.
Me:Yeah. I remember.
Luke:We had some big dreams back then.
“We”—the word was a bruise and a balm all at once.
Me:Dreams are dangerous.
Luke:So are you.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Dangerous wasn’t wrong. I was dangerous to him—in ways deeper than kisses and late-night texts. To his family. To his future. To the legacy he was supposed to inherit. But he wasn’t running from it now.
Luke:Have you drawn anything lately?
I was halfway horizontal and then I wasn’t. My knee hit the nightstand hard enough to sting. Barely anyone asked me that or ever saw that part of me. Only Avery did. And him.
Me:Why?
