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Don’t do it.

Don’t do it.

Don’t do it, man.

I pull my hands back as if the keyboard is electrified. I rub my face, feeling the grit of thirty-six hours of sleeplessness behind my eyelids. The hacker in me, the version of Max that views the world as a series of locks to be picked, is screaming that this is the only way.

But then there’s the other version of me. The one who watched her face in the morning light. And wishes desperately to have that chance back.

If I hack her, I’m no better than the shadows she’s running from. I’m just another powerful man, refusing to let her live her life on her own terms. That’s the exact thing she was hiding from—the feeling of being a target in someone else’s crosshairs.

Stay focused, Max. Get your life under control.

I think about the way I pushed her away because I was afraid she’d see how fucked up I was. If I’m ever fortunate enough to get the chance to stand in front of her again, I don’t want to admit I’d invaded her privacy.

With one swift and deliberate motion, I close the terminal window. The code vanishes. And the ghost of her digital footprint disappears.

Fuck, I miss her.

A week later, I walk into DPG to meet Gianni and his cousins. If I can’t fix my own love life, at least I can help them protect the women they love. But before I can walk into Gianni’s office, Lala approaches.

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you should have this.”

“What is it?”

I open the envelope to find an address in Hanover, Virginia. My heart rate picks up as I peer up at her. “Is this?”

Her angelic smile could light up a night’s sky.

Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her on the top of her head. “Thank you! I won’t let you down.”

37

CASSIDY

I smooth the front of my sundress, taking a steadying breath before heading out the door. The Hanover air is sweet, a world away from the stale, recycled oxygen of the club. God, that feels so long ago. It’s only been a month, but might as well be another lifetime.

I climb inside my car, headed out to help Sam with something. I bite my lip, considering how far I’ve come. That I could hop in my car and go without a care in the world. I reach to turn on the radio, Olivia Dean filling the speakers as she sings about the man she needs,

Once I clear the private gates of Sebastian’s estate, I spot it—a large SUV with heavy tint idling by the curb. My grip tightens on the steering wheel. My heart starts that frantic, familiar 5-4-3 rhythm, but I immediately chastise myself.

Relax, Cass. You’ve come so far.

How would anyone even know I’m here? I’m just a girl in a quiet suburb now. However when I merge onto the main road and catch sight of that same SUV in my rearview mirror, the reassurance from a moment ago dissolves. Panic flares white-hot. My hands start to shake, and I grip the steering wheel harder. Thank God I’m meeting Sam at a floral shop in a well-populated mall.

I decide to stay the course. If I’m being hunted, I’d rather be in a crowd. Jeez. I haven’t had a situation that made me feel this unglued since the day at the hospital that prompted my move to Sebastian’s home. I circle the parking lot like a hawk until I find the closest possible spot to the floral shop. If anything sinister happens, I want a short sprint to safety.

Grabbing my purse, I lock the door and keep my head down as I rush for the sidewalk.

“Cass?” The voice hits me like a physical shock. I freeze, then slowly turn to look over my shoulder.

It’s him. Max.

He’s standing there, looking infuriatingly gorgeous. His feet are planted shoulder-width apart in a power stance, one hand shoved into his pants pocket. But the dominance is a lie. His eyes, usually so self-assured and calculating, look despondent and vulnerable.