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“He has someone working on finding the Hunter…again.”

“Of course he does,” I muse. He’s been trying to unmask me for almost as long as he’s been on the scene, but he comes up short every time. “Who does he have working on it this time?”

“Ember.”

A startled laugh escapes my throat, and I rest my head against the headrest as the irony of this whole situation washes over me.

“What do you want me to do about it?” he asks.

“Nothing. Leave her be.”

“Are you sure?” His worried voice filters through the phone. “If Lucas figures out who you are, it could?—”

“He won’t,” I assure him. “Ember will be mine long before she can tell him what she knows about the Hunter.”

Silence meets me on the other end of the line. I know from previous conversations that he’s not as confident in the plan as I am, but he doesn’t know my little flame like I do. He hasn’t spent months obsessing over her.

Or at least I hope he hasn’t. I like Killian, and searching for another number two would be a real pain after killing him.

“There’s something else.” He pauses, and the sound of his expensive Italian shoes hitting the concrete in the warehouse fills the line. “You know how we thought the oxy shelves looked a little bare? They are. They’re a lot bare.”

I freeze. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Someone’s stealing from us?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“It would appear so. I’ve been through all the tapes multiple times, and I can’t pinpoint the moment the stock disappeared. The tapes have been doctored. Well. Like, really fucking well.”

I swallow heavily to force the anger down as I desperately try to regain my composure. Who the fuck is brave enough to steal from me? And moreover, who’s well-connected enough to pull it off?

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll see you at the warehouse in the morning.”

“You’re not coming in now?” he asks, surprise filling his tone.

“No. I have something else I need to do first.”

I end the call and shove myself out of the car. I need to calm the vibrating rage before I get to her, but the only thing that will settle me is having her close.

Without pausing, I cross the street and key in the code to access the building. The code wasn’t hard to get, or even a slight challenge, if I’m honest. I just followed one of the other residents in and watched her key it in, paying no mind to the well-dressed businessman she vaguely recognized but couldn’t place.

I bypass the elevator that looks as if it’ll break down at any second, and move to the stairs, taking them two at a time to get to her sooner.

Once I reach her door, I reach into my pocket for my keys. I make quick work of using the key I cut for myself when I was here the other week, and slip into her space.

The scent of her immediately calms me, and I take long seconds to just breathe her in. No one has ever had this kind of power over me, but I don’t let that concern me. Not when my woman is so close.

I keep my footsteps light as I move through the small apartment and pause in her bedroom doorway. She’s spread across the middle of the bed, her brows furrowed in her sleep, and I can’t help but step toward her.

It’s risky being here.

So fucking risky it’s out of character for me.

But Ember makes me throw caution to the wind.

As I grow closer, I see the dried tears against her cheeks and the wet spot where her pillow has absorbed her sobs, and I’m desperate to hold her. To feel her against me and for her to know she can always lean on me.

Soon, I remind myself.

I reach the edge of the bed and drop into a crouch. If she wakes, it will be significantly more terrifying to find a man looming over her bed. Not that this is much of a concession, butthe other option is for me to not be here at all, which isn’t an option at all.

Slowly, I reach out and brush a few stray hairs from her cheeks. They’re soft beneath my fingers, and it only makes me want to touch her more.