But god, how fast had he averted his eyes when my shirt came off? How carefully had he avoided touching that side of my body? How quickly had he broken every promise he’d made that he cared more about me than my body?
I let one finger trace the boundary between smooth and damaged skin down my sternum. “You’re married to the job now,” I whispered to my reflection. “That’s all you get.”
You didn’t get Owen.
And you don’t get Rav.
I took a deep breath and reached for my hair dryer, muscle memory taking over. Who cared what it all looked like, so long as my hair and clothes covered it?
Once I was done, I pulled on my turtleneck and jeans. After hanging the towel in my and Scarlett’s room, I headed downstairs. The rich aroma of coffee greeted me halfway down, reminding my stomach I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. In the kitchen, Mario stood at the counter, his back to me as he arranged something on a tray.
“Ah, the scientist returns to the world,” he said without turning around, somehow sensing my presence. “I worried you might have drowned in there.”
“Just trying to wash away some frustration.”
Mario turned, revealing a tray laden with slices of meats, cheeses, and olives. Small crackers sat next to a few steamingcups of espresso. His eyes made a quick sweep over me before returning to my face. Lifting the tray, he said, “Your colleagues are still working, but the mind needs proper fuel, no?”
“Especially when we have nothing to show for hours of work,” I muttered.
Mario stepped closer, offering the tray. “The espresso will help with your headache.”
I accepted the small cup, surprised he’d noticed. “That obvious, huh?”
“Allora… I have three sisters,” he said with a casual shrug. “I recognize the look of a woman who carries too much on her mind.”
I sipped the espresso—perfect, with a rich crema and just the right bitter finish. The warmth spread through my chest, momentarily easing the knot.
Mario watched me with a quiet appreciation in his gaze. The subtle flirtation didn’t seem like something he could control.
And all it did was make me think of how Rav had looked on the rooftop. How his hand had wrapped around mine. How much I’d wanted to tell him everything.
“Is it to your liking?” Mario asked.
I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“Come,” he said, gesturing with the tray. “I promised Scarlett I would make sure everyone has enough to eat.”
I followed him toward our operations center. Voices filtered through the partially open door.
“—using nested encryption protocols,” Brie was saying through the video call displayed on Drew’s laptop. “I’ve broken through the outer shell, but the core files use a distributed key system I’ve only seen in?—”
“How much longer?” Rav interrupted, his back to Mario and me as we entered.
“I’ve extracted some data already,” Brie said, pushing her oversized glasses up on her nose. “The image fragments and timestamp data were in the more accessible sectors. But the location tracking and command protocols are buried deeper.”
“The concert is in two days,” Rav said, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he gripped the back of one of the chairs.
“I know that,” Brie snapped, then took a breath. “We’re working as fast as we can. This isn’t standard corporate security—whoever designed this knew what they were doing.”
Mario cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention as he set the tray down. “I cannot help with your encryption, but I can prevent fainting from hunger.”
A few grateful murmurs rose from the team as they reached for the food.
“Any progress I might have missed?” I asked, moving toward the table where a group of tablets displayed maps of the amphitheater and drainage system.
“We’ve recovered some visual data,” Drew replied, gesturing me over to his screen. “Take a look at this.”
He tapped a few keys, and a grainy image of two people appeared. Only the lower half of the closer man’s face was visible, with a distinctive scar along his right cheek; the other face was too blurry to make out.
