Page 16 of The Final Contract (The Black Ledger Billionaires #5)

F uck.

What did I do?

I crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed. The one rule drilled into my head from the start—never get involved. Keep it clean, keep it professional. I’m her bodyguard, nothing more.

Except last night, I sat there in the dark and watched my mark—my mark—pleasure herself in my bed. Her knees spread, her pretty little moans muffled in my sheets, while I sat across the room like a sick bastard, fisting my cock until I came harder than I have in years.

I should’ve looked away. Should’ve walked out, slammed the door, done anything but stay and watch. But I didn’t. I stayed. I wanted every fucking second burned into me.

Now it’s morning and I’m punishing myself the only way I know how. Sweat pours down my back as I crank out pushups on the floor, then pullups, then free weights—anything to chase away the image of her mouth falling open when her fingers slid over her clit.

She’s still asleep. Still tangled up in my sheets, in my bed. Innocent as sin after ruining me with the sound of her coming.

And all I can think about is sliding in behind her, one arm wrapped tight around her waist, my hand between her thighs to see just how wet she gets when she teases me. I want to feel it—her heat, her slick, her back arching when I tug that long blond hair and bury myself inside her.

Fuck.

Several doors open at once.

My bedroom door creaks and my heart drops.

This is what I’ve been dreading. What the hell am I supposed to do when I see her? Pretend nothing happened? Apologize for it? Or just haul her onto the kitchen counter, spread her wide, and eat her cunt for breakfast like I’ve been craving since last night?

Before I can decide, the front door bursts open too. A whirlwind of bags and brown hair breezes past Finn.

Eve. Of course.

She’s balancing enough takeout containers to feed the entire security team.

Finn shoots me an apologetic look over her shoulder.

“We bring stalker updates and French toast!” Eve declares like it’s just another Saturday morning.

I wipe the sweat from my face with the hem of my tank, the fabric damp against my skin. My pulse is still kicking hard when movement at the bedroom door catches me.

She steps out.

Fresh from my bed, hair a little messy, eyes flicking over me before she can stop herself. Her gaze stalls low—on my stomach, on the sweat still dripping down it—then snaps away like she wasn’t just looking.

But the pink climbing her cheeks tells a different story.

My mouth curves into a half grin before I tip my water bottle back for a long drink.

Yeah. Definitely should’ve spread that pussy open for breakfast.

Eve’s already tearing into the bags, chattering about croissants and syrup while she lines up enough food to feed a platoon. I move to the counter, grab a couple of mugs, and pour out coffee. I tip one toward Seraphina, raising my brows in question.

“Coffee?”

She nods, a little too quick. Like she needs it. I know she does—she has coffee every morning, the same way, the same flavor, along with a cold glass of pineapple juice. Had a few of her favorites delivered with the groceries this morning, along with a few other things she hasn’t noticed yet.

We can’t go back to her place for another night or two, not until the team finishes upgrading her security. So she’s here. In my space. In my bed. Driving me fucking insane.

I turn to Finn. “What’d you find?”

He sets down his fork, wiping his mouth.

“The restaurant, first. Photos were taken across the street. Lad named Elijah, wasn’t it?

” His accent is thicker when he’s serious.

“Several cameras in the area, but none caught anyone hangin’ about.

The buildin’ across the way—no surveillance at all, so that was nothin’ but a dead end. ”

Sera dishes a plate, then hands it to me without looking, just as I’m passing her the coffee. Our fingers brush. A small, accidental thing. Except it’s not small at all—it’s lightning in my veins, quick and dangerous.

Finn clears his throat, carrying on. “The gym, though. Bit of a lead there. Cameras caught someone slippin’ the envelope into your purse.”

My head snaps his way and I feel Sera shift her eyes to me, then back at Finn.

“It wasn’t who you’d expect,” he goes on. “Just some woman. Regular at the gym. We tracked her down—she says a man asked her to do it. Told her it was an anniversary game with his fiancée. She thought it was romantic.”

Eve scoffs. Sera swallows too hard, a gulp that stalls in her throat. Her fork clatters against the plate. She looks like she’s seen her phantom again.

“Did he have…” Her voice cracks.

Finn’s gaze flicks between us. He nods once, solemn. “Aye. One brown eye. One blue.”

I clear my throat. “What about the penthouse? Cameras catch anything there?”

Finn shakes his head, mouth tight. “Nothin’. Jaxon’ll have to explain it better, but the lad was wearin’ some sort o’ device. Strong one. Knocked out every feed he walked past, so we’ve no good shot of him.”

My stomach knots. I stroke my chin, smoothing the coarse hair of my short beard in one direction.

“But Jaxon’s on it,” Finn adds quickly. “Says he should be able to trace it soon enough. They’re rare, aye? Unique. Now that he knows to look, he’ll be watchin’.”

I know that look on Finn’s face. He’s holding something back.

“What else?” My voice drops, flat.

He takes a breath, heavy. “The stalker was at the restaurant. When you met Daniel Ruiz. Jaxon checked their cameras. Same device—a scrambler—showed up. Means he was sittin’ right there—likely at the table next to you.”

Seraphina’s chest rises too fast, heaving. She stares down at her plate like it’s spoiled, the food suddenly rotten in front of her.

“The spilled glass,” she whispers, eyes lifting to mine.

I don’t need her to explain. I’m already there.

She’d been teasing me that night, sliding her leg against mine, playing with her wineglass like it was my cock she wanted wrapped between her lips. And I let her distract me.

Until a glass shattered right next to us and broke the moment. It was him.

Watching. Pissed. Right there.

Fuck.

I should’ve been watching the guests. Should’ve been working. Not imagining her tits in my hands.

My head tips back, eyes on the ceiling as my hands plant on my hips. A rough huff tears out of me, sharp with frustration.

This is exactly why I can’t get wrapped up in her. Can’t let her into my head. Because that prick got right next to her and could’ve done anything. If he meant to kill her, she’d already be gone.

I glance at her, jaw tight. I know this is going to start a fight, but fuck it.

“We need to stop the suitor dates.”

The flicker of fear in her face burns away in an instant, replaced by pure fire.

“Excuse me?” she snaps.

“You heard me.” I fold my arms across my chest. “It’s too dangerous. The bastard is getting closer every time. You keep parading around on these dates, you’re just handin’ him opportunities.”

Her chin lifts, eyes flashing. “I’m not canceling my life because some psychopath wants to rattle me. You think hiding me away is the answer?”

“It’s keeping you alive,” I bite back.

Her hands slam down on the counter. “It’s my choice. My contracts. My future. You don’t get to decide for me.”

“Like hell I don’t,” I growl, stepping in close, heat sparking between us. “Not when your choices put you in the crosshairs.”

Her lips part like she’s about to let me have it, but Eve’s voice slices through the air.

“You two fucking?”

“What?” Sera shrieks, spinning toward her.

“No,” I say flatly at the same time.

“No one would care. I’m just asking.” She pushes more.

“Strictly professional.” Not even I believe the lie I’m telling.

We’re not very convincing, apparently. Eve leans back against the counter, smirking like the devil herself. She lifts her mug, eyebrow cocked, sipping slow while some plan clearly takes root in that wicked mind of hers.

“Well, too bad,” Eve chirps, not even pretending to be fazed. “But nothing we can’t fix. And I know just the thing…”

She pulls a tablet from her bag, fingers flying across the screen until she spins it around.

Barrett Hall. The pro football player they talked about that first day they sifted through prospects.

“Team calls him Bear,” she says, smug. “Led them to the Super Bowl last year. They swept it because of him.”

I don’t need to read more. I already hate the bastard.

He’s about my height, about my build. Even the same brown hair.

Except he’s a prick—I can tell just by the smirk in his profile photo.

A playboy because pussy falls into his lap, not because he knows what to do with it.

He wouldn’t give a shit about Seraphina.

She’d be another trophy on his shelf, right next to that goddamn Super Bowl ring.

“Surely football dick will still be around in a few weeks when this stalker settles down,” I mutter.

“Weeks?” Seraphina’s voice cuts sharp.

Eve grins. “He’s free tonight.”

“No.” My answer is instant.

“Set it up,” Sera tells her.

“This is fucking stupid, and you know it,” I snap.

“Calm down,” Eve sing-songs. “I can get somewhere exclusive. Members-only, high rollers. Stalker boy can’t get in everywhere, surely.”

I don’t like this. Not one bit. I don’t know who the bastard is, where to find him, how to kill him—and meanwhile, she wants to keep prancing around like she’s vetting homecoming dates.

“Eve’s right,” Sera says, defiant. “We can go somewhere private. Jaxon can watch for the scrambler. If he’s around, you guys can… do what you do.”

I stare at her. Long enough she shifts against it. I want to shake her until she sees reason. I want to kiss her so hard she forgets every fucking suitor on that list. Kick Finn and Eve out, throw her on the counter, and show her why she doesn’t need to look at anyone else.

But I don’t. I can’t get involved, because even through her teasing last night, she’s the one set on finding a final contract to spend the rest of her life with.

So instead, I grind out, “If I smell anything, we’re leaving.”

“Of course.” She meets my eyes, unflinching.

“This stalker escalates again, and this is over,” I add. “Dates are done.”

“Captain Killjoy,” Eve mutters.

“I’m serious.”

Eve just smirks. “Trust us—we know.”

I roll my eyes as Seraphina leans toward her. “Set it up.”

They sweep up the remnants of breakfast while Finn and I clear the table. Then the girls disappear into my room so Sera can change, leaving me pacing my own kitchen like a caged fucking animal.

Finn pours himself another coffee, like the man’s got it hooked into his veins twenty-four-seven.

He leans back against the counter, mug in hand. “I know, you don’t like it, but maybe it’s good she’s goin’ out. Might draw this prick out, force him to move. If she stays locked in the penthouse, he could just wait her out. Five years, Kill. He’s already proven he’ll wait.”

It pisses me off. “Then we use a decoy. Someone else to lure him out without putting her in the crosshairs.”

Finn shakes his head, patient as always. “That’s just puttin’ someone else on the line. You know it. This—” he nods toward the closed door of my bedroom, “—this is the best we’ve got. Bring her out, show her off, pull him from the shadows.”

A pause stretches. From behind the door, I catch the sound of Sera and Eve giggling, muffled but bright. It twists something sharp in my chest.

I rub my eyes, jaw aching. “I’ll think of something else. Some other plan.”

Finn’s quiet a beat, then says carefully, “I know you’ve stayed away from the family… but?—”

“No.” My answer is instant, hard.

He studies me, but I see the uncle in him, not the soldier. He walked away from the Irish too. Got out a little after I did. He knows why I left, why I won’t go back.

“You don’t have to talk to your brother,” Finn says anyway, soft but steady. “But you could pull on a few old strings. Some of the boys are only still there ’cause they can’t get out. But if it came down to it—between you and him?—”

“That’s enough.” My voice is low, dangerous.

He doesn’t. “They’d choose you, Kill. And you know it.”

I give him a long, hard look. My gut twists with the ghosts I’ve tried to bury—memories of blood on my hands, the crime family I was born into, the one my brother runs now because I walked away from the throne.

“No.” My tone is harsh. Final.

“No Irish.”