Page 41 of Vicious Temptation

I search the man’s pockets, pulling out his wallet and a phone smashed beyond use.

“No loose ends, Papá.”

“Remi.”

I know that tone. But I also know what this man did. I rise and fire once into the back of his head.

Papá goes silent beside me.

Twelve

Thiago

The weight slams back into the rack harder than I intended.

I sit up and drag a hand over my face as sweat drips down my temples, my chest still heaving from the last set. The burn in my muscles should be enough to clear my head, but it hasn’t done shit.

It’s been two weeks since I last saw Remi, since that kiss and everything that followed.

I’ve tried telling myself this is nothing more than frustration over a job that went sideways, but I know better. This isn’t just about a girl with a pretty face, because Remi isn’t just that.

And she isn’t the only thing weighing on me.

The commander has been breathing down my fucking neck for days, demanding updates and near-daily check-ins on my comings and goings. Something about it doesn’t sit right. I’ve never had a handler this invested or this overbearing about a job. There’s always a timeline, so that’s nothing new, but what she’s asking for involves too many moving pieces to rush. I need to earn Remi’s trust before I can exploit it.

She isn’t the type to hand over access to her world easily, especially after what happened between us.

“You got a lot on your mind?”

My partner, Grey, leans against the rack, draining his water bottle as his eyebrows pinch when I don’t answer right away.

“What was that?” I ask, pulling out my earbuds.

“I asked if you had a lot on your mind. You look like you’re a million miles away, Braga. Work getting to you?”

If he only knew.

“Nah. Got some shit to sort out. Nothing important.”

He glances away and sighs like he doesn’t believe a single word, but he lets it go. His attention shifts past me a second later, and I catch the change immediately. The look in his eyes and the smirk tugging at his mouth tell me there’s a woman involved.

“Fuck. Me,” he groans, straightening his shoulders. “That is one fine piece of ass.”

Good. Maybe he’ll walk over and introduce himself and leave me alone. He’s a decent guy and a solid teammate, but on a normal day, the last thing I want is to hold a conversation while I’m working out, let alone when I’m already in a shit mood.

I follow his line of sight anyway.

Of course it’s fucking Remi.

She makes her way toward a Smith machine with the same confidence she seems to carry everywhere, completely unaware that I’m watching her from across the gym. My hand closes harder around the bar as every thought that’s been fucking with my head for the last two weeks suddenly has a face again.

Grey lets out a low whistle under his breath and shifts his stance like he’s about to make a move. There’s no fucking way I’m letting that happen. I set the weight down and sit up, my eyes never leaving her.

“Don’t,” I say, keeping my voice low.

Looking at me, his forehead creases. “What?”

“That one.” I nod in her direction. “Not your type.”