Chapter Two
Kayne Serruto rackedthe weight bar and sat up, dragging air into his lungs, sweat sliding between his shoulder blades.Morning rush at the COBRA Securities gym always came with its own flavor of chaos.Agents moved in a synchronized stampede, bass pounding through the floor and news headlines flashing across silent screens.It was noise, motion, and order disguised as madness.It grounded him and reminded him of who he was.What he was built for.
It should’ve been just another workout, except the universe decided to sucker-punch him with a commercial, of all things.
He wasn’t even watching.Not really.Just letting his pulse settle.Then, movement.A flicker of blonde on the screen above him.He looked up, and the world narrowed to a single point of light.
There she was.
Long hair cascading over her shoulders in shiny waves, abs etched as if some divine sculptor hadn’t known when to stop.She bent, grabbed the weight bar as if she were disciplining it, and executed a Romanian deadlift so clean and smooth it triggered muscle memory in his own body.Dante Costa would’ve whistled.Kayne didn’t whistle.He just forgot how to breathe.
Mon Dieu, who was this woman?
Her form?Flawless.Her muscles?Tightening and releasing in a rhythm so intoxicating he felt heat climb the back of his neck.And when she turned to the camera and smiled warmly and confidently, it punched straight through his ribs, leaving something raw and electric in its wake.
He blinked hard, hoping the universe might have mercy and give him a reset.No such luck.The ad rolled on, and now she was running on the beach, waves chasing her ankles.Suddenly, Kayne remembered the exact sensation of being underwater too long.
This was ridiculous.He didn’t get hit by commercials.He didn’t get hit, period.Attraction, sure.Interest, absolutely.But this?This was a blindside.
He needed a night out.Something easy and uncomplicated, that didn’t come with a smile capable of ending civilizations.And he absolutely didnotneed an insanely gorgeous fitness queen who could probably bench-press him if properly motivated.
Unfortunately, the commercial hadn’t finished its emotional assassination.
“Holyhell,” Jalen Ellis said loud enough to turn a few heads.“Who is that?”He pointed at the screen as if he were a kid discovering candy for the first time.“Tell me she’s real.Tell me she needs a bodyguard.Or a husband.I’m flexible.”
Kayne’s jaw locked so hard something in his temple twitched.
Jalen kept going, because of course he did.“Damn, look at the definition on her.And the smile?I’d let her ruin my credit score.No hesitation.”
Kayne’s brain supplied a perfectly rational reaction:Punch him.
Hard.
Once.
For science.
But he didn’t move, breathe, or even blink.He sat there as if he were a man listening to another man compliment his wife.
Except she wasn’t his wife.Wasn’t his anything, not even someone he’dmet, for Christ’s sake.
Still, the wordmineflared through him with all the grace of a bomb going off.
“Jalen,” Kayne said, voice low enough to be dangerous, “stop talking.”
Jalen froze mid-appreciative whistle.“Whoa, easy, Sergeant Alpha.Didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“She’s not.”The answer came too fast.“I’ve never seen her before.”
Jalen studied him, eyes narrowing as if he’d just discovered something very interesting.“Huh.That’s fascinating.”
“It’s nothing,” Kayne snapped.
