The instant I stepped outside, the cold morning air slapped me across the face like a wake-up call I hadn’t asked for. I sucked in a breath, trying to shake the lingering weight of everything I hadn’t told Nick. My jacket wasn’t enough to fight off the chill, but I pulled it tighter anyway and set off down the street toward the café. Croissants. Normalcy. Something to ground me.
But halfway down the block, the air shifted. It wasn’t just cold—it was charged. My skin prickled like static warning me something was off. I slowed, glancing casually over my shoulder.
And there was a black SUV, low and sleek, creeping down the street behind me. Not close enough to scream danger, but not far enough to ignore. The windows were tinted so dark they reflected nothing but sky, and yet I could feel eyes on me. Watching. Calculating.
I swallowed hard and picked up my pace. So did the SUV.
The knot in my stomach tightened, twisting with a sick familiarity. Gary. It had to be. Either him—or someone acting on his behalf. The idea made my blood run colder than the wind slicing through my coat. I turned the corner sharply and ducked into the café, my pulse thudding in my ears. I slid into a back booth, praying the scent of espresso and the clatter of cups would drown out my anxiety.
But it didn’t.
I stared out the window. And there it was again—the SUV—pulling up across the street, parking like it belonged there. My stomach lurched.
“Excuse me, can I—?” I turned to flag down a server, but the words caught in my throat.
Because someone was already sliding into the booth beside me.
Not Nick. Not a barista. A stranger.
“You’re even prettier in person,” he said smoothly, his voice all silk and edges. He leaned in, close enough that I caught the scent of expensive cologne and something colder underneath—like metal.
My heart stuttered. “What the hell?—?”
He grinned. His teeth were perfect. Predatory. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to cause trouble. Just here to talk options.”
I pushed away from him instinctively, pressing my back against the wall. “Who are you?”
His smile only widened. “Let’s just say I’m someone who knows a good opportunity when he sees one.” His gaze flicked toward the window. “And right now, sweetheart? You’re the biggest opportunity in town.”
Opportunity?
The word echoed in my head like a warning bell as my pulse pounded in my ears. Every red flag, every gut-deep instinct screamed at me: Get out. I didn’t know who this man was or what kind of twisted game he thought he was playing, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I’d had enough of men trying to control the narrative of my life—especially ones connected to Gary.
Before he could say another word, I shoved back from the booth and shot to my feet. His expression flickered from smug to startled as I bolted, weaving through the tables and bursting through the café doors like they were the only thing between me and safety.
The cold slapped me hard, but I barely felt it.
The SUV was still parked across the street. Engine running. Waiting. Like it knew I’d be back. Like I was the target.
Panic rose sharp and fast, coiling in my throat. I didn’t know who was inside, but every instinct told me the same thing: this wasn’t some coincidence. This wasn’t just a scare tactic.
They were here for me.
I looked around frantically—no alleys, no open stores, just traffic and strangers too busy with their lives to notice the girl about to come apart on the sidewalk. So I ran.
I didn’t think. I didn’t stop. My legs just moved, fast and fueled by fear, pushing past people who blinked at me but didn’t ask questions.
And all I could think as I ran was one name.
Nick.
If they were watching me… following me… cornering me in cafés…
Would they go after him next?
I stumbled through the door, the wind still clinging to my skin like ice. My hands were empty, my nerves frayed, and the croissants I’d gone to fetch were a forgotten afterthought. The house was too quiet—eerily so. Like it knew something was wrong.
Nick stood in the kitchen, sipping from a mug, shirtless and loose in those damn grey sweatpants that always made my brain short-circuit. He looked casual on the surface, but I saw the subtle shift in his posture the moment I stepped inside—shoulders squaring, gaze sharpening like a blade.
