He’d been seconds late.Again.
That thought sat heavy inside him, a slow, grinding weight.He replayed the stairwell over and over, feeling the same horror he’d felt hearing her scream and finding her with bloody hands, panicked breath, and a silhouette vanishing upward.He hadn’t seen a face or heard a sound, nor had Leo, who had been upstairs until the darkness drove him down via the main stairs.Whoever it was knew the building and how to move unseen.They also knew exactly how close they could get without killing her.
Which meant this wasn’t luck.
This was planning.Planning meant patience.Patience meant proximity.And proximity meant this wasn’t even close to being over.
At five a.m., Kayne eased out of bed, careful not to disturb her.Chloe murmured, shifted, then settled again.He paused and watched her longer than he meant to.
He’d never met anyone like her.She was beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with bone structure or skin.It was deeper and quieter than that.It settled in your heart and stayed.Her body and her soul were so hopelessly entwined, he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Andmais là, she knew exactly how to undo him.
Sex had always been good for him, even when it was bad, even when it was just heat and release and nothing more.But with Chloe it was different.It stripped him bare and rewired something fundamental.
The realization settled heavy and unwelcome in his heart: he wasn’t just drawn to her.He was becoming dependent on her presence, her touch, and the way she made the world go quiet.
That scared the hell out of him.
Kayne turned away before guilt could soften him.She was a client, and he was supposed to be protecting her, not crossing lines he’d sworn never to blur.He didn’t have time for that.Not now.
Anja was already in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, and hair pulled back tight.Her coffee sat untouched on the counter.Small bags were beginning to form under her eyes.
“You having trouble sleeping too?”
“Comes with the job.”
True, that.
“Overnight delivery came through,” she said without preamble.
Kayne glanced at the three heavy-duty crates stamped with COBRA Securities logos and a warning label that practically dared someone to try their luck.
He liked that.
When they arrived at the gym, he left Chloe with Leo while he and Anja went to work.A locksmith was already en route to change the locks.No discussions.No delays.
They worked in silence born from mutual trust and shared instincts.Kayne had rebuilt war zones faster than this.The fact that the comparison even crossed his mind sat wrong, settling low and dark in his gut.
That thought stayed with him as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Anja in the security closet, the sharp scent of fried wiring still clinging to the air.The old system laid in pieces at their feet.Whoever had done this hadn’t panicked.They’d known exactly where to touch and where not to.
This system wasn’t just better than the last one, it was paranoid.Independent power supply.Redundant backups stacked on top of redundant backups.Cameras watching doors, cameras watching hallways, and cameras watching the cameras watching the system itself.
“If someone even breathes wrong near this,” Anja muttered, tightening a mount, “we’ll have it in 4K.”
“Good,” Kayne said.“I want to know if they blink.”
They positioned a small cluster of cameras directly on the control hub, a choice most installers would’ve dismissed as excessive.That was the point.If anyone tried to tamper with the system again, they wouldn’t just know that it happened, they’d knowhow.
There would be no more invisible phantom.Next time, someone would leave a trace.
And Kayne would be waiting.
#
By mid-morning, thegym looked nothing like the war zone it had been for weeks.
The construction crew had finished laying the new flooring.It was thick, luxurious rubber in a deep charcoal gray, engineered for impact, grip, and longevity.It absorbed sound and light, making the entire space feel grounded in a way the concrete never had.Pallets of equipment lined the walls, shrink-wrapped and pristine, waiting to be unboxed.
