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The most profound moment that stood out to me wasn’t the sexual encounter. It was the discovery and sharing of our wounds. We got to touch each other’s scars. When she put her hands on mine, her healing intention penetrated the surface of my skin to where the darkness lived.

I couldn’t put it into words, and even now, I couldn’t express it. But I knew what she wanted to do when her hands touched my scars. She wanted to erase the pain etched into the scars the way I wanted to remove hers.

Whatever happened between us today ignited a new warmth inside me. Like a fire had erupted to kindle my dark soul.

I shifted her, removed my numb arm, and retrieved a larger blanket, throwing it over the smaller throw. I got dressed, grabbed the laptop from my office, and settled in the lounge chair across from her, watching her sleep for a moment. My chest constricted, and I wasn’t sure why. I’d been attracted to her physically, but this evening intensified my feelings for her to another level I wasn’t ready to face yet. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the connection, the way she made me feel at the deepest level.

What had I gotten myself into? My mind had been cluttered with finding the asshole who had stolen from me and destroying The Trogyn. Caring about someone posed a threat to my mission. This hadn’t been my initial strategy at all.

You got distracted, moron.

I had to pivot and reevaluate my strategy to ensure the thief was punished and The Trogyn destroyed.

What if my new plan pushed her away? I didn’t like that. I’d take a few days to let things settle in my mind before making any further decisions.

I looked outside the sliding door, which gave me a view of the spacious backyard. The meteorologist was wrong again. About eight inches of snow were already on the ground. Light flurries, my ass.

I searched for the news, checking for the latest weather forecast. A fucking blizzard? Apparently, the precipitation had shifted, and now we had a Nor’easter named Betsy hammering part of New England for the next forty-eight hours.

Vivian shifted, made a soft sound, and curled into the blanket. She looked so cute. And she was now stuck with me for another two days.

Smiling to myself, I got up from the lounge chair, walked over to the sliding door, and looked up at the dark sky. “Thank you.”

This was another gift I didn’t expect to receive today, but I was happy it had occurred. I returned to my seat and emailed my assistant to shift my schedule around. I had an international call tomorrow and Sunday. Those could wait.

I had a special guest to attend to. Vivian had come here tonight all wired up, ready to confront me. I had a feeling what she wanted to know. Somehow, she connected all the dots of what I’d done. I knew she’d find out eventually, but this was too soon.

I opened the file the PI had given me on Vivian’s family history. Her grandfather, Stephen Kwan, or King Viper, had been The Triad tycoon for The Taipans. He passed away and there was no current leader at the moment. The Taipans ruled New York’s Chinatown with business in several cities around the world, including Providence. Like other crime organizations, The Triad dealt with illegal activities. Now I understood her connection to Calvin.

Were The Taipans working with The Trogyn? I couldn’t help the thought.

The file wasn’t complete, and I had more questions for Vivian when she was ready to share. How involved were her parents? Was that how she’d gotten her wounds? Did someone from The Triad do that to her? Who would dare injure the granddaughter of a leader?

His enemy.

Was she close to her grandfather? Why was she really in Providence? It seemed like the woman sleeping on my couch carried a lot of dark secrets. I wanted to keep her safe.

I checked my email for anything pressing since I’d abandoned everything the moment she appeared on my doorstep. The email from the Medici Medallion Award committee reminded me to send in the name of the guest who would attend the event. I looked over at Vivian.

My phone buzzed with a text from Sylvia. She probably got the same email.

Sylvia:We’re going to the Medici together, right?

Wasn’t I clear the last time we spoke?

Arrow:No.

Sylvia:Who are you going with?

Arrow:Not sure.

I knew who I wanted to go with me, but I hadn’t submitted a name yet.

Sylvia:Why are you doing this?

Arrow:Doing what?

Sylvia:We’re good together. My father loves you.