Page 30 of My Masked Shadow

He shrugs. “I was bored.”

I stare. “You’re actually insane.”

“You’ll love it,” he says confidently.

“Will I?” I ask doubtfully.

“I’ll wear a mask,” he promises in a honeyed tone.

Oh.

Oh hell. That mask he always wore when sending me pics.

My thighs clench, remembering all the cyber sessions I had withSeb.

“Ethan…”

He leans down, brushing his lips over mine, whispering: “You said you want to be chased. I’m giving you the perfect hunt.”

My heartbeat slams itself against my ribs.

“Do you trust me?” he asks softly.

“No,” I breathe.

He smirks. “Good. You shouldn’t. Get your shoes.”

∞∞∞

The drive isfifteen minutes of silence and sexual tension so thick it could be sold in jars.

When Ethan pulls up to what looks like a massive, repurposed industrial building, I gape.

“This is yours?” I ask in shock.

“Ours,” he corrects. “Killian owns half.”

“So it’s full of gym equipment and military toys?”

“Some.” He presses his thumb to a biometric lock. The door clicks. “And some things only I know how to use.”

Lights flicker on as we step inside. My eyes widen. This isn’t a warehouse—it’s a high-tech fever dream.

It’s a cavernous open space, the concrete walls lined with minimalist projection panels, ceiling rigging, motion trackers, and slender columns with embedded haptic emitters. The floor is a seamless matte black, lightweight and with shock absorption—like stepping on a high-end martial arts mat that spans an entire football field.

It’s sterile. Cold. Empty. But somehow already humming with danger.

“What is this place?” I whisper.

Ethan steps behind me, close enough for his breath to brush my ear.

“My home away from home,” he murmurs.

I shiver.

He walks forward, pressing a few buttons on a central console. The lights dim to almost nothing.

And then the world changes.