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As my eyes drift shut, my body begins to recover from the adrenaline rush. Does he feel it too? The pull, the heat, the way our worlds seem to collide every time we’re near each other.
Whatever happens next, one thing is certain: Nick Ryeland is a fire I can’t help but run toward, even if it burns me alive.
8
NICK
The next morning, I’m up early. Sleep never really came—too much happening, too fast in some ways, too damn slow in others. In the safe house workspace, data scrolls across the monitors in cold, relentless lines. And the more I see, the clearer it becomes. It’s worse than I thought.
Hector Pardo isn’t just dirty—he’s a full-fledged traitor.
I lean back in my chair, rubbing a hand across my jaw as I scan the decrypted files Logan pulled from Hector’s personal server. Years of illicit transactions, weapon shipments rerouted under the guise of Interpol operations, intelligence leaks sold to the highest bidder. All of it feeding directly into René Vallois’ network.
Cherise was telling the truth. I shouldn’t feel relief at that, but I do. Because it means I was right to let her in. It also means she’s in more danger than I originally thought.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I ask Logan on the phone.
“Christ,” Logan mutters. “This isn’t just corruption. This is full-blown treason.”
“I know,” I nod, even though there’s no one to see, barely acknowledging the obvious. My mind is already working through our next steps, calculating how much time we have before Vallois or Hector realize we’re on to them.
Cherise’s file—her escape, the evidence she stole—it’s all here. She was careful, but Hector must have realized what she took. She’s not just a loose end. She could be the death of him, literally.
Logan exhales. “We need to take this to Interpol…”
“No.” I cut him off before he can finish that thought. “We don’t know who’s compromised.”
There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. “So, what’s the play?”
The sound of footsteps crossing the floor alerts me that Cherise has entered the room. She comes to stand behind me clad in one of my assistant’s fitted sweaters and a pair of black leggings. The fire from the night before has faded into something quieter, something cautious, and fuck me, I feel it.
I don’t want to feel it. I don’t want to look at her and remember how her body molded to mine when I cradled her on my lap up in the lounge at Opus Noir after our all-too-brief session. I don’t want to remember the way she gasped when I touched her, the way her pupils went dark with need when I told her to kneel.
I want to remember the years of silence. The way it felt to wake up one day and realize I could never go back. But my body doesn’t give a damn what I want.
I push back from the desk, finishing my phone call with Logan. “Get a full decryption on the rest of those files and get me an updated tracker on Vallois’ movements. If he’s got a deal coming up, I want to know before it happens.”
I end the call. Cherise has moved across the room and is standing by the window, her arms wrapped protectively around her. I stride toward her before I can second-guess myself. She hears me coming, turning just as I stop beside her. “You were right,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Hector’s deeper in this than even I thought.”
She takes a deep breath. “I didn’t know, I swear.” There’s no satisfaction in her voice, no I-told-you-so. Just exhaustion. She looks up at me then, her green eyes wary. “What happens now?”
I don’t answer immediately. Instead, I step closer, letting her feel the space between us shrink. “Now, Cerberus does what Cerberus does best. We take them down.”
Her lips part slightly, her breath shallow. I see the flicker of something in her gaze—something vulnerable, something she’s trying to hide.
I reach out, cupping her chin between my fingers, forcing her to hold my stare. “But that means you follow my lead, Cherise. Your life—hell, our lives—both depend on it. No more arguing. You do what I say, when I say it.”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “And if I don’t?”
My grip tightens just slightly, enough to make her breath catch. “Then I’ll make you.”
Her pupils dilate; she’s aroused. I can tell she hates how she responds to me, but she doesn’t pull away. I release her just as abruptly, stepping back. “Take it easy,” I say, my voice rougher than before. “We move on Hector and Vallois soon.”
She exhales shakily, nodding. But as she turns to leave, I catch her wrist, holding her still.
I lower my voice, just for her. “I truly thought I did what was best, Cherise, for the both of us.”
She looks up at me, and for the first time since she walked back into my life, I see something break in her expression. “I don’t doubt it,” she whispers, and then she’s gone, leaving me standing alone, my chest tight, my fists clenched.