I was wide awake thanks to the adrenaline from Kage’s news, but Stella had passed out on the couch during my call. I gently pried her empty mug from her hand and set it on the table before I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She was in such deep slumber she didn’t even stir. Moonlight cut a silvery swathe through the darkness as I laid her on the bed. I tucked the comforter tighter around her, the gentleness of the action a sharp contrast to the roar in my blood. It seemed almost obscene to touch Stella while visions of blood and dismemberment crowded my brain, but I couldn’t shut off the part of me that thirsted for vengeance. The cold shower I took dampened my anger but didn’t erase it completely. And, because I needed an outlet for my frustration that didn’t involve physical release, the first thing I did when I emerged from the bathroom was open my laptop. I skipped past the open window with an unfinished crossword—I preferred physical puzzles, but I made do with digital versions when necessary—
and opened the file I kept specifically for times like these. I skimmed the list of names before settling on the president of a major multinational bank. He’d never been and would never be a Harper Security client. Contrary to popular belief, I did have fucking standards for the people I
associated with, and this guy was a nasty piece of work. Embezzlement, tax fraud, three sexual harassment lawsuits from his former assistants that were settled out of court, and a penchant for slapping around both his wife and the women he cheated on her with. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. “You’re about to have a very bad day when you wake up,” I told the photo of his red, beady-eyed face. It took me less than five minutes to hack into his bank accounts and reroute the funds to various charities via anonymous donations and a network of proxy servers.
It was almost embarrassing how easy it was. The man’s password was his first car’s model and his birthday, for fuck’s sake. I left a chunk of money for his wife along with the name of a good divorce lawyer before I forwarded some information to the IRS that the U.S. government would find highly interesting. As the cherry on top, I put his info up for sale on the dark web, sent several humiliating photos from his last visit with his mistress to all two hundred thousand of the bank’s employees and, because the asshole once tried to steal a parking spot from me, I hacked into his car, killed the GPS, and wiped out all the vehicle’s data. By the time I finished, I felt calm enough to slide into bed next to Stella. Contrary to what she said earlier about nature, nothing cleansed the soul like a good cyber rampage.
I stilled when Stella let out a mumble and draped her leg over mine. She must’ve liked the warmth because a few seconds later, she wrapped her arm around my waist and snuggled into my chest. Even though she was already asleep, she released a small yawn that melted into a contented sigh and then…silence. I stared down at her, waiting for her to wake up or at least shift again. She didn’t. Judging from the steady rise and fall of her chest, she’d drifted back into sleep and had no intention of untangling herself from me anytime soon. I hated cuddling after sex and cuddling without sex even more, but instead of pushing Stella away, I brushed a lock of hair out of her face and examined her in the moonlight peeking through the curtains. The silvery glow caressed her skin in a way that made her look ethereal. An angel sleeping in the arms of a monster. Few people trusted me enough to close their eyes when I was in the room, and here she was, cuddling against me like I was a damn teddy bear. Completely unaware of the violence brewing only inches away. My hand drifted from her hair and onto the elegant curve of her cheekbone. I traced it down to her chin, keeping my touch featherlight so as not to wake her. I wanted to etch every detail of her into my mind until I could close my eyes and picture her as vividly as if she were standing in front of me. Perhaps then I would understand the hold this woman had on me. How could someone so innocent and pure-hearted have branded herself so deep into my psyche I felt the agonizing burn of it this long after we met? My touch lingered against Stella’s face before I dropped it. Invisible traces of the blood coating my hands streaked her cheeks. They were the same hands that fit easily around the metal of a gun and ended lives with the mere press of a button. A liar’s hands at best, a killer’s hands at worst. I shouldn’t be touching her and tainting her with my crimes, both past and future. She deserved to shine without darkness threatening to consume her, and if I were a better man, I would let her go. But I wasn’t. My flickering conscience recoiled at the unseen smears of red against her skin while a twisted, possessive part of me thrilled at the sight. But if there was one thing both sides agreed on, it was that she was mine. And now that she was in my life, there was no letting her go.
30
STELLA/CHRISTIAN
STELLA
I woke up the next morning to rumpled sheets and a stomach full of butterflies, partly because of the shoot and partly because of the faint leather and spice scent in the air. Christian was gone, but tiny prickles of heat consumed my skin at the sight of the rumpled sheets on his side of the bed. I knew the villa had one bedroom. The front desk assistant told us so when he’d upgraded us. But the thought of sharing such an intimate space with Christian, even if I’d been passed out for all of it, electrified me in a way it hadn’t the first night we’d shared a bed. Stop it. It’s just sleep. I shared beds with my friends all the time when we traveled together. That wasn’t a big deal, so this shouldn’t be either. Of course, I didn’t want to have sex with my friends, but that was a minor distinction. I forced my eyes away from the bed and got ready. Since Delamonte would be providing the clothes and makeup on set, it didn’t take me long to throw on a simple linen dress and tame my hair into something manageable. When I stepped into the living room, I saw Christian working on the lanai, looking far too stressed for his first morning in Hawaii. “Good morning.” I stopped next to his table. An empty coffee cup and a half-eaten slice of toast sat next to his laptop along with a a completed crossword puzzle. “You’re up early.” “I’m working on East Coast time.” He lifted his head, his brow smoothing when he saw me. “Are you ready for the shoot?” “Yes.” Sort of. Maybe. Probably. My uncertainty must’ve bled through because his face softened further. “You’ll do great.” “Thanks.” I twisted my ring around my finger before his words sank in. You’ll do great. “Are you not coming with me?”
“Not today. A work emergency came up.” “Oh.” Disappointment bloomed in my stomach until I crushed it. Obviously, he wasn’t going to stand around and watch me get my photos taken the entire trip. He had better things to do. “Nothing too bad, I hope.” “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Christian nodded at the room service menu on the table. “Do you want something to eat beforehand? I can call the kitchen.” “No, I’m already running late.” I also might throw up if I ate anything before the shoot, but I kept that to myself. “I guess, um, I’ll see you later.” I left, feeling oddly like I was saying goodbye to my boyfriend before a long trip apart. Which was ridiculous, because he wasn’t my boyfriend, and our hotel was only a fifteen-minute walk from the set.