He left.
The door shut.
And I stood there in the cold light of upstate winter, naked, still slick on my thighs, trying to breathe like a normal woman with a normal schedule.
My phone sat on the nightstand.
I picked it up with trembling fingers and typed Harper a message I could live with:
Made it. It’s freezing. Don’t worry. I’ll call after my keynote.
I hit send.
Then I looked at the lingerie on the chair.
Ivory.
Delicate.
A secret.
My hands shook as I lifted it.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that Harper’s life—the safe life, the Luca life—was starting to feel like a story I used to believe in.
And mine?
Mine had become something else.
A hunt.
And I had just learned how good it felt to be caught.
8
The lingerie felt like a secret I was carrying under my skin.
Ivory lace against flesh, delicate and impractical, hidden beneath a dress that could have passed for any keynote speaker’s.
That contrast stayed with me as I dressed, every layer a reminder of how divided my life had become in less than twenty-four hours. The woman who stood in front of a mirror smoothing her skirt was Lia Quinn, strategist, advocate, professional. The woman beneath her clothes was something else entirely. Something awake. Something claimed.
I braided my composure carefully. Makeup light, hair down like he’d instructed, soft enough to look effortless but controlled enough to feel intentional. My pulse never quite slowed. Every movement was deliberate. Every breath carried the weight of the morning.
My phone buzzed as I reached for my coat.
Unknown number.
Car in ten minutes.
No greeting. No question. Just expectation.
I typed nothing back. He hadn’t asked for acknowledgment. That was part of it, I was learning. My silence was its own answer.
I stepped outside into a world of white and steel-blue light. The air bit sharply, cold enough to make my lungs ache. Snow glittered on the ground like the aftermath of something pure and indifferent. The black sedan waited at the end of the drive, engine running, patience humming beneath its stillness.
The driver opened the door without a word. I slid inside and felt the door close behind me, sealing me into motion.
