Four weeks. He’s saying it out loud now. Making it official.
I knew this was coming—Dom told me to clear my schedule last week—but hearing it confirmed, hearing the timeline, hearing that I’ll be at City Hall, in Marcus’s office, away from this building and any witnesses...
“City Hall?” I manage to keep my voice steady. “Will I have access to the firm’s systems remotely?”
“Everything you need will be provisioned on-site,” Dom says. His tone hardens. “Controller Ashford has requested no remote access. Sensitive government materials.”
Trapped. He’s trapping me there.
“Of course.” My throat constricts. “That makes sense.”
“We start now.” Marcus is still watching me. Waiting to see if I’ll object. If I’ll try to get out of this. “We have to get all your paperwork and clearances.”
“Right now is perfect.” The words come out smooth. Professional. Completely disconnected from the screaming in my skull.
Marcus grins. That predatory smile makes my skin crawl.
“Excellent,” he says, still blocking the doorway. Still leaning. Still in my space. “We have a lot to accomplish, Dylan. I think you and I are going to work very well together.”
The ring pulses warm.
The earbud burns.
Alex isn’t speaking to me.
Dandelions grow through cracks in the pavement. But I’m not sure what happens when the pavement fights back.
Or when your dandelion won’t even look at you.
Four
It’s notbad enough that I have to work with this asshole.
But I have to be seen in public with him.
I have to walk out of this building. With him. Down the street.
Past people who know me.
Past people who will remember seeing us together.
I hate every second.
From the moment he puts on his coat—that fucking fur coat, cream and soft and unmistakable—my stomach turns over.
I force myself to breathe. To move.
He walks past me without even waiting.
Which, fair.
We aren’t dating.
He’s a possible serial killer.
I’m wearing the ring of one of his victims.
I can’t win this right now.
