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Orion

I smack the snooze button again, the soft thud of it echoing in my dimly lit room.

Shut the fuck up, motherfucker.

Seriously, who in their right mind thinks nine a.m. meetings are a good idea? Certainly not me. My body feels like lead, weighed down by the exhaustion from yet another late night spent indulging in my secret obsession—magic tricks.

Yeah, I’d never tell anyone I’m into sleight of hand tricks. Especially the men I work with at Maddox Security. I’m sure the guys would love to rag on me for that. I’d probably never hear the end of it, and listen… I’d rather keep this shit to myself.

However, my fingers have a natural agility. They move with a kind of fluidity over the cards, shuffling and flipping them effortlessly. It’s not just a party trick; it’s skill, discipline, finesse. Few people can handle a deck the way I do. There’s only two things I’m really, really good at. Fucking and cards.

The alarm shrieks again, more demanding this time, yanking me out of my daydream. I groan, throwing my rumpled dark-blue comforter to the floor in frustration.

Fine, I’m getting up.

I rub my eyes, the clock flashing an accusatory 8:20 a.m. Ten minutes to get out the door. Fantastic.

I leap out of bed and stumble through my morning routine like a man possessed. A wrinkled t-shirt is the first thing I grab from the pile of semi-clean clothes on the chair in the corner of my room. Not ideal, but it’ll have to do. At least Dean, my boss, doesn't believe in suits and ties for these meetings. It’s one of the few things I appreciate about him.

However, what I don’t appreciate… Dean’s obsession with holding early-morning meetings. He’s one of those “stick to a schedule” types, convinced that knocking out meetings at the crack of dawn somehow frees up the rest of the day for productivity. Maybe for him, but for me? I’d prefer an extra hour of sleep.

I guess it also goes to say the majority of the men who work for Maddox Security are ex-military. They’re used to this shit, and sure, when I worked SWAT, I got up early for work… but it’s been a while.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, a text from Boone popping up. “Don’t be late. You know Dean will notice.” Great, just what I need. As if the anxiety about the meeting wasn’t enough, I now have Boone in my ear reminding me of Dean’s eagle-eye for tardiness. I throw on some jeans, grab my keys, and dash out the door, hoping I can make it downtown in record time.

Dean Maddox is the head of one of the world’s largest security firms—though calling it a "security company" hardly does it justice—and has a reputation for taking on the most challenging cases, the ones other firms shy away from. It’s also how he met his wife, Sophia. They had to pretend to be married for a case, and somewhere along the way, Dean fell hopelessly in love with her. Their unconventional love story is one for the books, but right now, I need to focus on making it to that early meeting.

I race across town in my SUV, tires screeching as I speed through the traffic lights. Bursting into the conference room, I’m a groggy mess, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“Why do you schedule these meetings so early in the morning?” I grumble, collapsing into the nearest chair.

Dean, Boone, Ranger, and Lincoln turn to look at me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. It’s as if I’m some peculiar artifact they can’t quite place. Maybe they’ve never been this tired before.

“It’s nine a.m. I wouldn’t exactly call this early,” Dean chuckles, his gray eyes assessing me.

“Someone had a rough night,” Boone observes, his grin widening as he leans back in his chair.

If he only knew. I let out a groan and rest my head on my arms, desperately trying to stay awake while I wait for the last person to arrive.

A few minutes later, Asher, the newest member of our team, strides into the room, clearly apologetic. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, offering Dean a quick nod.

“Thanks for being here, everyone,” Dean begins, flipping through a stack of papers with practiced efficiency. “I know the past couple of months have been challenging with my search for Bishop Blackstone. I want to extend my gratitude to each of you for your invaluable contributions in locating him.”

As Dean speaks, I stifle another yawn, wishing more than anything for this meeting to be over so I can crawl back into bed and catch up on some much-needed sleep. The room’s early morning light feels harsh, and the comfort of my bed seems like a distant dream.

“I know Isabel has been a tremendous help, and I’m incredibly lucky to have such an awesome sister,” Dean says, his tone filled with genuine appreciation. He glances at Lincoln, who’s watching him, before continuing, “Now, I have some assignments that have come up, and I want to assign each one.”

I force myself to focus, mentally kicking myself for not grabbing a coffee before the meeting. If only I had gotten up a bit earlier, I might have had the chance.

“Ranger, let’s start with you,” Dean says, sliding a thick file across the polished wooden desk. “The G-Summit Meeting is this weekend, and this is Tory Ann.”

Ranger picks up the file and begins flipping through the papers, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Is she attending the summit?”

“No, she’s not,” Dean replies, shaking his head. “Her father, the world-renowned scientist Frederick Malser, will be a keynote speaker. He’ll be there, and he’ll have his own personal security detail looking after him.”

Ranger looks up, curiosity piqued. “Why not have his own security team watch over his daughter as well?”

“Frederick has received several threats regarding his speech at the Summit,” Dean explains, his voice steady. “He’s adamant about keeping his daughter’s presence in town a secret. He wants everything to remain under the radar and is even hesitant about some members of his own security team.”

The room falls silent as everyone absorbs the information. I shift in my seat, mentally reviewing my to-do list. This is going to be a long day, but at least it’s starting to take shape.

“That sucks,” Ranger mutters, glancing down at the file in his hands with a frown.

“You’ll take her to the safe house: SEASHELL, and keep her there until the Summit is over,” Dean instructs, his tone allowing no room for an argument.

I let my gaze drift out of the conference room window, where the morning sun casts shimmering reflections over the ocean. The rhythmic pull of the waves lulls me into a semi-trance, momentarily pulling me away from the meeting’s intensity.

“Orion,” Dean continues, snapping me back to attention, “Briar Green’s the daughter of socialite Minnie Green. Briar’s been dealing with a persistent ex-boyfriend who’s been stalking her. Her mother insists on having security for her while we work on getting a restraining order.”

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that seems to be enveloping my brain. I wish I could just shake off the exhaustion and focus.

“Ex-boyfriend?” I ask, my voice tinged with frustration. “Can’t I just take him out back, scare him half to death, and call it a day?” I reach for the file Dean slides toward me.

“It’s not that simple,” Dean replies, his expression serious.

I flip open the folder, and my breath catches. The photo inside nearly leaves me speechless. “It never is,” I mutter under my breath, staring at the striking green eyes gazing up at me from the picture. Damn. I’ve never seen anyone so stunningly beautiful in all my life. Her eyes are a mesmerizing shade of emerald, framed by thick lashes that curl just right, almost too perfect to be real. They seem to shimmer with a life of their own, pulling me in, and for a second, I forget where I am.

Her face is a dream, delicately sculpted like something out of a Renaissance painting. Full lips are perfectly balanced in shape and color, curving into a subtle, confident smile that seems to challenge the world around her. She’s magnetic, radiant, and the kind of woman who’d turn heads wherever she goes without even trying.

Despite my best efforts to focus on Dean as he assigns the next task to Boone, my gaze keeps drifting back to Briar Green’s photo. There’s something about her that’s impossible to ignore, a quiet intensity in her beauty that leaves a fucking mark.

Listen, I love a pretty lady, sure, but there’s something about Briar that’s different . Dating women isn’t really high on my priority list of things to do. Relationships are something I never indulge in. Ever. Now fucking women, whole other story, however, looking at Briar’s picture right now has me rethinking my fucking priorities.

I hate to admit it, but I can understand why her ex-boyfriend can’t let go. She’s a fucking knockout.

Dean’s voice cuts through my thoughts, “I want everyone to know I’m here if you need anything.” His words pull me abruptly from my fixation on Briar.

I force myself to refocus on her file, skimming through details about her job at the Saint Pierce Zoo, where she works in the aviary.

I’m not the type to fall for someone at the mere sight of a photograph. Yet, as I stare at Briar, something within me shifts. A primal urge begins to stir. A rush of molten lava surges through my veins. A fierce, possessive rage ignites in my gut, compelling me to protect this woman with every ounce of my being. It’s as if my body has decided on its own that her safety is now my only responsibility, no matter what.

I glance at the name of the ex-boyfriend, Jason Baker, and an intense wave of hatred washes over me. It’s not just dislike; I feel a deep, visceral anger, and I silently hope that by the end of this job, I’ll have the chance to confront him one-on-one and make him understand just how much I despise him.

My thoughts shift abruptly as I read through the rest of the file. I’ll also be spending time alone with Briar. I scan her address and the contact number for her parents. They want me to meet her at her job and then bring her to my place. My place?

The meeting wraps up, and I grab the file, heading out of the room with it clutched tightly in my hands.

“Asher, can you hang back a minute?” Dean calls out as I shut the door behind me.

Boone turns to the group. “We all need to catch up soon. It was a blast last time.”

My foggy brain struggles to reconcile the idea of a fun night with the guys and the serious task of protecting Briar. I just stand there, half-listening as the guys chat about planning another get-together.

“Maybe once I’m done with this assignment, we can do a guys’ poker night,” I suggest, trying to sound casual.

“I’m down with that,” Ranger replies, his trademark cocky attitude evident in his voice. “Of course, I want to play again.”

I can’t help but smile slightly at this. Motherfucker stole all our money last time we had a poker night. I still remember losing three hundred bucks to that card shark.

Ranger’s laughter cuts through my thoughts. “I’d love some more free money,” he jokes, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“No way. I’m not playing poker with this guy again,” Lincoln mutters, barely above a whisper. Lincoln’s the giant silent type—one of those stoic figures who keeps to himself. I don’t know him well, and honestly, neither does anyone else. “Besides, my job isn’t exactly a walk in the park.”

Ranger gives Lincoln a friendly slap on the shoulder, his grin widening. “I figured as much when Dean brought you in before everyone else. Must be a tough gig.”

Lincoln merely nods, his expression unreadable. He sighs deeply. “It’s Isabel. Dean’s sister. She’s being threatened.”

That jolts me fully awake. Isabel is like family to us—one of the guys, really. We’d all put our lives on the line to protect her, just as we would for each other.

“Who’s behind it?” Boone asks, his voice tight with the same fury I’m feeling.

Lincoln shrugs, his face a mask of frustration. “Not sure yet. Dean’s got some leads. My job is to keep Isabel safe while he sorts it out.”

“Good luck with that,” I say with a forced laugh. “I’m sure she’s thrilled about this.” Knowing Isabel, I’m sure she’s not. She’s a tough chick, a real badass, like her brother.

Just then, the sharp click of Isabel’s heels echoes through the hallway. The sound sets my nerves on edge. I imagine her frustration at being shielded, and I’m not keen on sticking around for the inevitable confrontation.

“Isabel on your six,” Boone says before bolting toward the elevator.

I quickly hit the elevator button, eager to escape before the real fireworks start. I’ve got to get to the Saint Pierce Zoo and focus on my own assignment.