Page 51 of King of Pain (Damaged Hearts #1)

Every Breath You Take

Anthony

Through the glass walls of my office, I can see the soft glow of the evening cityscape starting to settle in.

It still feels surreal that I have an office at all, let alone one right next to Meg’s.

Six months after starting as her assistant, she moved me into this space, taking me further under her wing, training me hands-on with her clients.

Two years later, I learn something new, something invaluable every day.

Right now, I’m reviewing a contract for Maya Bailey, a fifteen-year-old tennis prodigy already making waves in the sport.

I was lucky to sign her, and the agency is ecstatic about it.

Even at such a young age, Maya is sharp, humble, and fiercely committed, a rare combination in a sport full of egos.

Her parents have been just as impressive—meticulous about her training, unwavering in their support, flying around the world to ensure she has the best opportunities.

They remind me of all the reasons my own parents remain in the rearview mirror of my life.

My mom still texts every so often, when guilt nags at her, I’m sure. They all sit unanswered.

I’m in the middle of a clause about media rights when my phone vibrates on my desk. I pick it up, glancing at the screen.

Jason Ciccone

I exhale through my nose, already knowing what this is about before I even pick up my phone and read the text on my lock screen.

Jason: Hey cutie, I’m flying into town next Thursday. Meet for dinner? I have some sponsor things I want to go over.

I shake my head with a smirk. I saw the break in his game and promotional schedule and knew this was coming.

Me: Sure. What time do you check into your hotel?

Jason: 6pm. We could just order dinner in my room.

He follows it up with a wink emoji.

I bark a laugh and type back.

Me: Nice try. I’ll meet you at Thai Basil at 7.

Jason: Deal.

A second later, another text.

Jason: Can’t blame a guy for trying.

I laugh again, but as I set my phone down, the humor fades. Jason has been chasing me for two and a half years, never letting up, and yet, I’ve never given him more than professional courtesy. I wish I could give someone—anyone—the time of day.

It’s been a week since I saw Chance. Seven days since he walked back into my life like a damn wrecking ball. And every single one of those days has started and ended the same way.

Good morning, Beautiful.

Goodnight, Beautiful.

Every day. Without fail.

And every single time, I’ve hovered my fingers over my phone, wanting to respond, but not knowing what to say. Or if I even want to say anything at all.

Because how does he fix this? How does he make up for that final text three years ago?

I’m gone. Don’t try to find me.

What could he possibly say to make that okay?

A soft knock pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance up to see Meg leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, one brow raised.

“Am I interrupting?”

I blink, adjusting back to reality. “Huh?”

She steps inside, perching on the edge of my desk. “The look on your face was either deep in contract review or contemplating murder. Which was it?”

I rub my jaw, exhaling. “Just… weighing if I should hear someone out or not.”

Meg smirks. “Well, I’ve been in negotiations with you, and I can say with certainty—I’m glad I’m not on the opposite side of the table from you. Good luck to whoever it is.”

I scoff with a smile. “Speaking of clients, Jason texted. He’s flying in next Thursday. Has some sponsor contract questions he wants to go through over dinner.”

Meg gives me a slow, knowing look. “Mmhmm. I’m sure he does.”

I roll my head back against my chair, groaning. “You’d think he’d catch a hint by now. Even if I was looking for something, I’m not going to date our client.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You realize you’re already dating him, right? Or more accurately—he’s dating you. He’s just using the I have to go over sponsorships loophole.”

I lift my head and gape at her. “Meg, I would never—”

She holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Anthony. I told you. If there was something there, we’d shift him to another agent. But this isn’t about policy, is it?”

I shake my head. “No, it isn’t. Seems there’s no room in my head or heart.”

Meg tilts her head slightly, studying me. “There’s a story there. We’re going for drinks. Soon. And you’re not allowed to hold back.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, okay.”

She checks her phone, then stands. “Alright, get out of here. I’m off to the airport. I’ll be in Atlanta for the next ten days working on landing a tight end. Oh, and I’ll be trying to sign a client while I’m there too.” She winks.

I laugh, shaking my head. “At least someone’s getting some dick around here.”

Meg’s loud cackle echoes through the office as she heads next door, and I shake my head, grinning to myself.

I shut my laptop with a satisfied sigh, stretching my arms over my head and look around my office space.

My own office. Seems silly, but it provided a boost of confidence I needed at the time.

When Meg moved me into the space next to hers, she made it clear—this wasn’t just a promotion. It was a statement. I wasn’t her assistant anymore. I was an Agent under her now. And I worked damn hard to earn it.

I gather my things, sliding my laptop into my bag. Meg appears in my doorway again, knocking lightly. “You wrapping up?”

I nod, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Just heading out.”

She falls into step beside me as we walk toward the elevators. “Like I said, I’ll be out for the next ten days, but you’ve got everything under control, right?”

“I’ve got the three client contract renewals handled, and I already confirmed the sponsor meeting for Maya next week,” I assure her.

Meg nods approvingly. “Knew I didn’t have to worry. You’re a damn powerhouse, Pacini.”

We step onto the elevator, making idle conversation as it descends to the parking garage. The doors slide open, and we step out, walking toward our cars—until I stop abruptly.

Leaning casually against my car, long legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest, is Chance.

He’s wearingobscenely tightjeans and an eventighterblack t-shirt, exuding confidence and infuriating sex appeal.

Meg stops beside me, glancing at my face before following my gaze. “What are you—” she starts, then cuts herself off. A beat of silence, then—

“Oh. Ohmigod.Is that what’s taking up the space in your head and heart?”

I sigh, rubbing my temple. “Yep.”

“Oh, dear,” she whispers ominously.

“Oh, dear what?”

“You’re fucked.”

I groan and she lets out a slow whistle. “Fuck me sideways. No wonder Jason couldn’t get anywhere with you.”

Chance aims a blinding smile at me, clearly enjoying himself. He can’t hear us, but I’m sure he’s filling in the blanks.

Meg looks him up and down, shaking her head. “Is he even real? I mean, look at him.”

“Don’t remind me,” I mutter.

“Jesus,” she says under her breath. “The way he’s looking at you.”

“Not helping,” I sing-whisper as heat runs up my neck.

She exhales sharply. “I need to get to Atlanta.Sooner than later.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You gonna be okay?” she asks. “Should I stay?”

I straighten, steeling myself. “No, go catch your flight. I’m good.”

Meg gives me a pointed look. “Okay.Text me.I want to know everything.”

She heads toward her car, leaving me to deal with thetemptationleaning against mine.

I approach cautiously, stopping a few feet away. Chance’s devilish smirk doesn’t falter.

“Hey, Beautiful.”

I cross my arms. “I told you—you lost your privilege to call me that. What are you doing here?”

His smirk grows.

I narrow my eyes. “How do you even know where I work?Better yet,how did you know which car was mine?”

Chance pushes off the car, taking one slow step toward me.

“Well, there’s this magic tool called the internet where you can find out which company people work for. And sometimes, those companies have websites with office addresses.”

I shake my head. “Uh-huh. And my car?”

He shrugs. “I hedged my bets on the one car in the garage with aDuran Duran backstage passhanging from the rearview.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, fine. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

He takes another step closer. My pulse kicks up.

“I’m here, Beautiful, because I needed to see you.” His eyes rake over me, slow and heated. “My eyes have only been able to feast on you once since I’ve been back.They’re starved.”

Heat licks at my skin. Oh, fuck him.

I swallow. “What do you want from me, Chance?”

His expression softens. “I want you to please give me one shot at explaining my actions.”

I stiffen, but he doesn’t stop.

“There’s a reason behind everything I did. Reasons that I’m hoping willalter your perception.I know I can’t take away any pain I caused, but it’s important that youknow why.”

I stare at him, considering. The part of me thatstill aches for himand needs answers wants to give in. But the other part? The part that lived with his absence for three years? That partwins.

I take a step back. “No.”

His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I’m not ready for that. I need time.” I pause, exhaling. “There was a point—up until about a year after you left—where I would’ve jumped into your arms if you came back. I would’ve had questions, but I would’ve been happyjust to have you near me again.”

His throat bobs.

“But three years, Chance. Iwaitedthree years. You can give me some time.”

Chance closes his eyes briefly, then nods. “That’s fair.” He looks at me again, determination burning behind his eyes. “But just know—I’m not going to ease up on trying.”

I huff a sarcastic laugh. “Of course not.”

He smiles and says, “I want a second chance. A second chance at… us.”

I can feel the lump in my throat growing.

Then he hesitates, shifting on his feet before his voice turnsquiet. Almost shy.

“Can I at least see Little G?”

My heart presses against my chest.

He exhales roughly. “I feel awful having left him like that. I’d really like to see him. And if you’re open to it…maybe visitation rights?”

His eyes are sofucking sadit takes me a minute to form words.

I shake my head slightly. “I don’t know. He was really confused—” I stop, narrowing my eyes. “Wait.How do you know I didn’t give him away after you didn’t come back?”

Chance raises a brow. “Because Iknowyour heart, Ant. You would never in a million years do that.”

I huff, knowing he’s right.

Then he shrugs. “Besides, I confirmed it with Lexi.”

My eyes narrow. “Really?”

He grins sheepishly. “Yeah. She came over a couple days after the bar. Yelled at me some more. Punched me in the shoulder a few times.”

I wince.

“Then we had some tequila, I told hereverything, and we spent the night crying.”

Silence hangs between us.

Chance shifts, clearly nervous.

Iblow out a breath.“Fine.You can see him Saturday.But I’m bringing him toyourplace. You don’t get to know where I liveyet.”

Chance’s lips curve. “Yet, hmm?”

I point at him. “Don’t push it.Just text me your address later.”

I try to sound confident, but I’m barely managing not to grab a fistful of his t-shirt to haul him against my body.

God, how does he do that to me?

Chance grins, backing away. “I’m going to go now.I’ll see you Saturday… Beautiful.” Then he spins and keeps walking.

My eyes drop to his ass.

Oh yeah. That’s how he does that to me.