Page 8

Ethan

The door clicked shut behind Mel, and I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where she’d been standing. Her scent—something light and floral—lingered in the air. I’d noticed it when I’d taken her arm, examined the bruise that she’d been carefully hiding.

“Is it safe to come out now?” Ty’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I turned to see him peeking around the suite’s second bedroom doorway, a grin spreading across his face.

“How long have you been hiding in there?” I asked, moving back to the conference table.

He stepped fully into the room, looking way too pleased with himself. “Long enough to hear you agree to take on the job you were dead set against yesterday.” He flopped onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “What happened to ‘these people are a waste of our time’ and ‘not worth the hassle’? ”

I shot him a look that had him quickly removing his boots from the furniture.

“Things changed.”

“Clearly.” He gestured toward the door Mel had just exited through. “And would that change have anything to do with a certain manager in high heels?”

“It has to do with this.” I tossed the folder of threats onto his lap. “Mel’s been intercepting these before they reach Nova. There’s more on the flash drive.”

Ty flipped through the pages, his expression growing more serious with each one. “Jesus. Some of these are pretty detailed.”

“Exactly.” I moved to my laptop, already pulling up the video call software. “Nova might not be taking this seriously, but Mel is. She’s been trying to handle it all by herself.”

“And that bruise on her arm? From the break-in?”

I nodded, not surprised he’d noticed it too. Ty might joke around, but he didn’t miss much. “Hit a serving cart in the dark. No one else even knew about it.”

“So, we’re really doing this? Taking on America’s most annoying pop star and her entourage of suck-ups?”

“We are.” I glanced at him. “You going to have a problem maintaining professionalism?”

He held up his hands. “Hey, I can be professional. I’m a consummate professional. The most professional professional who ever professionaled.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now.” He grinned, then sobered. “For real, though, I get it. If the threats are that serious, we’re going to keep Nova safe.”

I checked my watch. “Logan and Jace should be available. Let’s get them up to speed.”

I initiated the video call, and within moments, both men appeared on-screen. Logan was at our Colorado training compound, while Jace was at his apartment in Denver, surrounded by his usual array of monitors.

“Gentlemen,” I greeted them.

“Boss.” Logan nodded. “This about the email you sent yesterday? Because I’ve already started looking at available options for Morocco.”

“Actually, there’s been a change of plan. We’re taking the Rivers job after all.”

Jace’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What happened to—and I quote—‘client unwilling to comply with basic security protocols, recommend passing’?”

“New information came to light.” I held up the folder. “Turns out Nova Rivers has been receiving some serious threats. Her sister Mel has been intercepting most of them, trying to handle everything herself.”

“The pop star’s sister is her security detail?” Logan asked incredulously.

“She’s her manager. And apparently, her protector, counselor, scheduler, and emotional support system all rolled into one.”

“That’s a lot for one person to handle,” Jace commented.

“Exactly.” I placed the folder down. “I’m sending you both the force protection survey report. Short version: the estate is a security nightmare. Inadequate cameras, weak locks, minimal protocols, unrestricted access. The main security guard is older than Jesus and evidently a family friend. We’ll need a complete overhaul.”

“Wait,” Logan interrupted. “If the security is that bad, and the threats are that serious, how has nothing happened yet?”

“Dumb luck,” I replied. “And it ran out five days ago when someone got into the house.”

We discussed the break-in, which was already in the file, then added what Ty and I discovered at the house, including everything—Nova’s dismissive attitude and Mel’s efforts to manage it all.

“We’ll need to secure the estate first, then develop protocols for the tour. I want all of you here in three days to implement.”

“What changed your mind?” Jace asked, his expression curious. “Yesterday, you were convinced these people weren’t worth our time.”

Unbidden, the image of Mel’s arm came to mind—the purple bruise stark against her pale skin. The way she’d tried to hide it, like she wasn’t used to anyone noticing her pain.

“I’ve been assured Nova will be on board with whatever we decide to implement. So we’ll do it.”

“Plus, I personally asked if any of her friends or colleagues had any grenades and was assured that wasn’t part of the upcoming tour,” Ty tossed in, rubbing near the bullet graze on his arm. “So, double win.”

I reached for the flash drive Mel had provided. “Jace, I’m going to send you this drive. It contains screenshots of threatening messages Nova’s been receiving. I want you to analyze them, see if you can find patterns, identify potential suspects.”

“On it.”

“One more thing.” I hesitated, knowing this was outside our normal scope. “I need you to develop an app or software that can filter text messages.”

All three men looked surprised.

“Come again?” Jace asked.

“Nova constantly texts Mel—dozens, sometimes hundreds of messages a day. Anxiety spirals, mostly. It keeps Mel glued to her phone, which is a security risk on its own. I need something that can filter those messages, send the important ones to Mel, route the rest to an assistant.”

“That’s…not exactly standard Citadel services,” Logan said slowly .

“I know. Consider it a special project.” I met Jace’s eyes through the screen. “Can you do it?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard. Basic AI filter with customizable parameters. I can have something ready in a few days.”

“Good.” I ignored the look Ty was giving me from across the room. “Any questions?”

We spent the next twenty minutes going through logistics—team assignments, equipment needs, timeline. When we finished, I ended the call and closed my laptop.

“So,” Ty said, his voice deliberately casual. “That text filtering thing. That’s new.”

I shrugged. “It’s a security issue.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you clearly have a thing for Mel Rivers.”

“I don’t have a ‘thing’ for anyone. She’s a client now. That’s it.”

“Right. Just like you didn’t stare at her like she was the last bottle of water in the desert.”

I shot him a warning look. “Thin ice, Hughes.”

He held up his hands in surrender, but the knowing smile didn’t leave his face. “I shall now take off my ice skates and return to the safety of the shoreline.”

After Ty left to grab us some food, I sat down at the conference table and opened the folder again. Some of the threats were standard celebrity stalker material—declarations of undying love, anger at being ignored , bizarre requests. But others were more sinister, with detailed descriptions of what the sender wanted to do to Nova.

One letter in particular stood out. Unlike the others, which were focused on Nova’s appearance or demands for attention, this one mentioned the reasons why canceling her tour was a good idea. It had a different tone from the rest—less overtly sexual, more…paternalistic .

I made a note to have Jace pay special attention to that one.

My mind drifted to Mel again. The bruise on her arm. The exhaustion in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide. The way she carried everything on her shoulders without complaint.

Who took care of her while she was busy taking care of everyone else?

I remembered the softness of her skin under my fingers when I’d examined the bruise. The slight catch in her breath. The way her eyes had widened in surprise that I’d noticed something everyone else had missed.

This attraction was unwelcome and inappropriate. I needed to shut it down now, before it became a problem. Ty had already noticed it. The other guys would too.

Plus, Mel wasn’t my type. A career-driven woman who ultimately had no room in her life for anything but ambition? I had no problem with a woman wanting that; I’d just learned the hard way that wasn’t the type of person for me.

But something about Mel felt different. Her devotion to Nova seemed to come from a place of genuine care, not self-interest. And unlike Samantha, she wasn’t using people as stepping-stones to get ahead.

Still. Although Mel Rivers may not be the actual primary client, she was still off-limits.

I forced my attention back to the threats, trying to push thoughts of Mel’s green eyes and soft skin from my mind. I had a job to do—keep Nova Rivers, and by default, Mel, safe. That’s what I would focus on.

Even if part of me wanted to do more than just protect Mel. Part of me wanted to be the person who finally noticed her. Who saw her not just as Nova’s sister and manager, but as a woman with her own needs and desires.

A woman who deserved someone to take care of her for a change .

I closed the folder with more force than necessary. This kind of thinking was dangerous. Distracting. Exactly the kind of complication I couldn’t afford on a job like this.

Mel Rivers was the sister of a client. Nothing more.

I just had to keep reminding myself of that.