Assess Chloe’s apartment.Talk to the cops.See if you can find video footage.
You didn’t second-guess Kayne Serruto’s instincts unless you enjoyed regret as a lifestyle.
She slowed to exit the highway, adrenaline humming now.This was the part she’d missed: the moment right before stepping onto a crime scene, when everything was possible and nothing was certain.Pittsburgh homicide had taught her how to chase monsters; COBRA Securities taught her how to stop them before they finished the job.
Her shoulder protested again as she reached for her ID, and she blew out a breath.“Quit whining.We’ve got work to do.”
Traffic thickened the closer she got to the city.Her mind ran through the cover story again: She was a specialist Kayne hired because hisgirlfriend—she still rolled her eyes at that—was receiving threats.No badge here.She wasn’t a detective, just another layer of protection wrapped in a pleasant, non-intimidating Scandinavian package.
IKEA, but dangerous.
The apartment building came into view.And on the front walk pacing with arms folded, radiating tightly wound fury, stood a man who had to be Leonardo De Luca.
Anja parked and slid out, straightening her jacket.Leo spotted her and stopped.He blinked, then stared.Not at her shoulder.Not at her ID.
At her face.
She was used to that.Her coloring tended to make people do double-takes, but Leo looked as if someone had gutted his vocabulary.His mouth opened, closed, opened again.She wondered if the poor guy’s brain had imploded.
“Hi,” she offered, because someone had to speak.“I’m Anja.Kayne sent me.”
Leo cleared his throat.“Yes.Anja.”Then, after a pause too long to be accidental, “Wow.”
A tiny laugh slipped out.“Try to pace yourself.”
Color rose adorably in his tanned cheeks, and he stepped aside to let her pass.“The police have already left.”
Good.That meant fewer obstacles and opinions while she laid eyes on the scene.
Anja moved past Leo, every investigative instinct sharpening.The air in the hallway tasted wrong, heavy and disturbed.
Her shoulder stopped aching, and her nerves stopped fluttering.Work mode slid into place like a glove.
She glanced back and found Leo still watching her as if she’d knocked his world a little off kilter.Anja felt a flicker of warmth she didnothave time to unpack.
Later.Maybe.
Right now she had a crime scene to walk into, a threat circling closer, and a team to steady.
God, it felt good to be back.
#
Leo hadn’t stoppedpacing the walkway for twenty minutes, and the concrete was starting to show signs of emotional distress.He dragged a hand through his hair, checked the apartment windows for the fiftieth time, and tried very hard not to think about Chloe’s shredded plants, the creepy rearranged photos, or the fact that someone had created a coffin shape out of her dumbbells as if they were auditioning for a low-budget horror movie with a very specific grudge against leg day.
He was going to hunt this bastard down and staple their kneecaps to a wall.Horizontally.
His phone buzzed in his palm.A text from Kayne:Backup’s almost there.Don’t be scary.
Leo scoffed.Him?Scare someone?He was a delight.One who currently wanted to throw a stalker off a bridge, yes, but a delight nonetheless.A charismatic, bridge-yeeting bundle of charm.
A sleek black SUV rolled up to the curb before he could type a response.It was too expensive to be anyone but COBRA Securities.
Leo straightened, bracing himself for ...he didn’t know.A wall of muscle?Another Kayne-type operative with a jaw that could cut granite?Someone who looked as if they ate threats for breakfast?
What stepped out made his brain short-circuit.
The woman had long, pale-blonde hair that shimmered like moonlight and eyes the color of storm clouds right before lightning hits.Every line of her compact build read controlled power.She moved like someone who could break down a door or recite poetry, possibly at the same time.Somehow, all scenarios were equally believable.
