Chapter Five
Kayne swept the second-floor landing with a slow, practiced glance.It was an old building with a sound foundation, but there were too many blind corners.This was the type of place that could be secured if you had the training, the instincts, and the bone-deep readiness to assume the worst.
Thankfully, he came preloaded with all three.
What he didn’t know how to handle, not with any damn finesse, was the woman walking ten paces ahead of him with a tablet hugged to her, acting as a shield against the entire world.
Chloe Giordano.
She was optimism shaped by discipline.Soft edges wrapped around iron resolve.Hope stitched together with sheer stubborn willpower.A woman who radiated light without trying and made people lean in.
That light hit him in places he’d forgotten he had.It dragged his focus sideways in ways he hadn’t experienced in years.
She stopped to inspect a patch of wall the painters hadn’t touched.Her nose wrinkled as she made a note, the expression so small, so earnest, so guilelesslyherthat something in his ribcage tightened.
Chloe was beautiful but distracting.She was also potentially lethal—to his professionalism, anyway.Because the more time he spent near her, the more his focus slanted toward her orbit.Every swing of her ponytail was a gravitational pull he had zero defense against.It was a metronome ticking off the seconds of his self-control.
She turned to him.“Do you think this color is too bright?”
He blinked.The wall was an aggressive shade of yellow that hurt his retinas.“That color is committin’ crimes.”
Her laughter burst out, unguarded and bright, and cracked straight through his armor.It hit so hard he pretended to examine the railing just to hide the momentary punch to his system.
Whatwasthat?
“Okay, noted,” she murmured, tapping something on the screen.
She didn’t see it yet, not really, but everywhere she went, people tracked her.She had presence without effort.Ten million followers had figured that out.So had the stalker who didn’t know he’d just declared war.Leo knew it.Kayne knew it most of all.
He shifted his attention to the track circling the open gym.There were many angles.Too many places for shadows to watch her or for danger to slip in unnoticed.
Tension crawled across his nerves.“Needs privacy screening.”
“What?”she asked.
He pointed to the sheer office walls.“Anyone outside could keep eyes on you.You’ll need window film or switchable glass.”
She frowned up at him.“You really think someone would spy through a second-story window?”
His reply was quiet, but heavy.“I think people underestimate what danger looks like.”
She stilled a fraction, but it was enough.He noticed a quick tightening of her shoulders, her breath caught mid-inhale.It was a vulnerability smoothed away so fast he suspected she’d spent years perfecting the maneuver.
