Chapter 65

[ 1,131 words ]

Katia’s POV

I heard him stand, the rustle of his clothes a loud sound in the quiet room. He walked toward me, stopping just behind my chair. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with something darker, something more primal.

“I wanted to see if you’d show up,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against the back of my neck. “I wanted to see if the woman who ’drove into the river’ was the same woman who walks into my office with her head held high p>

I turned around, the chair spinning to face him. He was leaning against the desk, his arms crossed, watching me with a terrifyingly focused intensity. “I’m a professional, Julian. I don’t let ’technical difficulties’ get in the way of my business obligations p>

“Is that what you call it? A technical difficulty?” He reached out, his hand finding a stray lock of my hair, tucking it behind my ear with a touch that was surprisingly gentle. “You’re a liar, Katia. You’re playing a game you can’t win, and you’re doing it because you love the thrill of the edge as much as I do p>

“I’m not playing a game,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, though my heart was hammering against my ribs. “I’m trying to keep my business and my life away from your reach p>

“Nothing is out of my reach,” he growled, leaning in closer until our faces were inches apart. “You think because you can navigate a server or outmaneuver a security team that you’re safe? You’re in my world now, Katia. And in my world, I get exactly what I want p>

The tension between us was a physical force, a bridge of lightning that threatened to incinerate the both of us. The memory of the office visit earlier that week, the way he had pressed me against the desk, and the way our bodies had fit together in that dry fucking race ran through my mind. I could see the same hunger in his eyes, a dark need that ignored the fact that he was married to my sister.

He didn’t kiss me. The air was thick with everything we weren’t saying. I wanted to push him away, and yet my hands were gripped tight to the edge of the desk, holding me back from reaching for him.

“Sign the rest of the pages,” he said suddenly, his voice turning cold and transactional once more. He pulled back, the warmth vanishing as he restored the wall between us. “My driver will take you home. I don’t want you on the road at this hour p>

“I can take care of myself, Julian,” I said, my voice finally finding its strength.

“I’m sure you think you can,” he replied, walking back toward the sofa to retrieve his tie. “But until the contract and everything that concerns it is finalized, you are a Kensington-Windsor asset. And I don’t like my assets being at risk p>

I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. I finished the signatures in a blur of motion, my mind reeling. He was playing with me, using his power and our attraction to keep me off balance. He was hunting for something, some crack in my armor, and he didn’t care who he hurt to find it.

I walked toward the door, not looking back. I didn’t want to see him, the King of the Windsors, sitting there, watching me walk away. I didn’t want to see the vulnerability I had glimpsed just minutes before.

“Goodnight, Julian,” I said, my hand on the glass handle.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Katia,” he replied, his voice a low, lethal promise. “And stay alert. The city is full of people looking for a reason to see you fall p>

I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing on the image of him standing in the center of his glass empire. As the car descended, I leaned against the wall, my breath finally hitching.

He was getting too close. Not to my secrets, but to me. The walls I had built around my life, around Aiden, were supposed to keep men like Julian out. But as the elevator hit the lobby, I realized the terrifying truth.

I woke up at 4 AM, like it was a punishment. No alarm. No noise. Just my eyes snapping open to the dark ceiling of my bedroom with my heart already three beats ahead of my brain, still running from a bridge I’d left two hours before.

I lay there for a moment, staring at nothing, my body deciding whether it was done with the adrenaline yet. It wasn’t. My hands were steady—they’re always steady after a race, after the drop—but my mind was still moving at 140 mph, replaying the drone in my peripheral vision, the SUVs that came within an inch of my tail, and the red flash in the corner of my visor that said ’Target Tagged’ like the universe had a grudge.

I got out of bed before I thought too hard about staying in it.

Aiden’s door was slightly open, the way he liked it. I pushed it wider and stood in the frame for a moment. He was face-down with one arm hanging off the mattress and his duvet kicked to the foot of the bed, which was normal. His curls were a disaster, which was also normal. He was breathing in that deep, total way that only children and people with no guilt manage.

I fixed the duvet. He didn’t stir.

Back in the hallway, I pulled my robe tighter and padded to the kitchen. The city was a dark glitter outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stood in front of it for a moment, arms crossed, watching Manhattan breathe. Somewhere out there Julian Windsor was probably at a desk. Surrounded by server logs and drone feeds and the digital outline of a woman who had just made his entire security grid look like a suggestion.

I smiled at the window. I couldn’t help it.

Then I thought about his text.

That was a hell of a dive into the river, Katia. I hope the water wasn’t too cold for you.

I picked up my phone from the counter. Unlocked it. Read the text again, and then the one after it.

I’ll see you in the boardroom at 9:00 AM. Don’t be late. We have a lot to discuss regarding your… ’technical difficulties p>

He knew. He didn’t know how much he knew, but he knew enough to be dangerous. The ellipsis before technical difficulties was doing a lot of work. The man punctuated like he interrogated, leaving exactly the right amount of space for you to hang yourself in.

I put the phone down.

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