I scrolled through my messages. Instagram. Email. The private account I used for industry contacts. Nothing there either.
The mysterious messages aimed at me had been constant for weeks. Daily. Now they were gone.
I told myself that was good. Griffin had changed the access protocols and repositioned security coverage. He increased monitoring at load-in. Chief Kang had mentioned something about tightened credential verification.
Maybe it was already working.
Maybe whoever had been sending messages understood that they couldn’t get as close anymore. The vulnerabilities were closed.
Griffin made us less visible. Harder to reach.
That’s what security was supposed to do: create distance between threats and their targets. Make the cost of access too high to justify the effort.
I wanted to believe that. I checked my phone one more time.
Relief settled into my chest. Cautious. Fragile.
I walked to the window. San Francisco’s financial district spread out below, glass towers reflecting city lights. Too bright to see stars.
Somewhere in the city, Griffin was in another hotel room. Maybe showering, as I’d just done. Maybe sitting awake like I was now. He would review tomorrow’s security plan with the same systematic attention he’d given tonight’s crowd.
He was competent. More than competent. And nothing bad had happened.
I sat on the bed. The quiet was strange. I’d gotten used to low-level anxiety, understanding that somewhere out there, someone was watching too closely and wanting too much.
Now there was only… space.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Griffin’s hands. I closed my eyes and let myself imagine more. His fingers on my bare skin. Touching me because he wanted to, instead of because protocol demanded it. I wanted to know what it would feel like to be wanted by someone who made me feel this steady. This grounded.
I wanted him to say my name—not Rune. Yoon-jae.
Opening my eyes, I stared at the ceiling. Getting up, I walked to the bathroom. Splashed cold water on my face and stared at myself in the mirror. My reflection looked tired. Weariness was a permanent condition, but maybe tonight it was less tense than usual.
Maybe this was what protection felt like. Space between me and whatever wanted too much.
And maybe that space had Griffin’s name on it.
Chapter three
Griffin - San Francisco - May 4
The call came at 11:55 PM.
I'd been lying on top of the covers, fully dressed, staring at my phone. When Kang's number appeared, adrenaline spiked through my chest.
"Griffin."
"Rune's room. Fairmont, sixteenth floor, 1622. The door was ajar when he returned. He didn't enter. He's in the stairwell."
I was already moving. "On my way."
"He asked for you specifically. Don't make me regret supporting that."
The line went dead.
The Fairmont lobby at midnight was quiet but watched. I took the stairs, hitting sixteen without my breath changing.
The stairwell door opened as I approached.
