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I close my eyes.

And I sing.

The sound pours out of me like it always does—strong, clear, alive.

The music wraps around my lungs, my chest, my whole body.

For a few blessed minutes, nothing exists except the melody.

Not the billionaire’s mansion.

Not mysterious threats.

And definitely not the tall, infuriating bodyguard standing somewhere in this building.

Until the unmistakable sensation of being watched prickles across my skin.

I open my eyes.

And there he is.

Leaning against the back wall.

Arms crossed.

Dark eyes locked on me.

Less.

And he’s staring at me like I’m the only thing in the world.

My voice wavers for half a second before I recover the note.

Damn him.

He hasn’t moved.

Hasn’t spoken.

He’s just watching.

Like he used to.

Like he’s memorizing every breath I take.

The song ends.

The last note fades.

Silence hangs in the air.

The pianist smiles politely.

“That was stunning.”

“Thank you.”

But my attention is fixed on the man in the shadows.