ログインLauren’s POV The coordinates came through at 11:47 a.m.No message. No name. Just a pin drop from a number I'd memorized and never saved, tucked inside a calendar reminder labeled 'dry cleaning' so Julian's men wouldn't blink if they went through my phone. Which they did. Regularly. I'd stopped being surprised by that weeks ago.I told Marcus I needed air. He sent one of Julian's newer guys with me—a quiet, wide-shouldered man named Reeves who'd replaced Silas's slot in the rotation without anyone saying Silas's name out loud. I lost Reeves near Pike Place inside four minutes. Old habit. You don't survive underground poker rooms without knowing how to disappear in a crowd.The dead-drop was a parking garage on Third. Level two, northeast column, behind a loose concrete panel that had probably been used for exactly this kind of thing since before I was born.The envelope was thin. No bigger than my palm.I slid it into my jacket and didn't look inside until I was three blocks away,
Lauren’s POV The study smelled like him.That was the problem. Cedar and whiskey and something masculine, something I'd started associating with safety, which was its own kind of insanity. I sat at the edge of his desk chair, my fingers close to the keyboard, and told myself for the hundredth time that this was just checking things out.Just checking things out. Get access. Get out. Save yourself.Except my hands wouldn't move.Three days since I'd left something in here on purpose—my phone charger the first time, a bracelet the second. Three days of Julian watching me like he was waiting for me to crack wide open and confess everything.The cursor blinked on his screen. The login prompt sat there, blank and waiting. Julian's second-tier access. I'd gotten as far as the username field twice now before something—footsteps, a door, my own cowardice—pulled me back.I tried again.'J. Cross / Username.'The second prompt loaded immediately. 'Authentication required. Proceed with regist
Lauren’s POV My burner phone suddenly lit up the dark bedroom. It was 3:07 a.m. I snatched it before the vibration could wake the whole penthouse.The woman’s face filled the screen—sharp cheekbones, blood-red lips, that same cold smile she’d worn in the warehouse. Her voice came through in a low, crisp message.“Time’s up, fake Serena. Hack Julian’s offshore accounts or I send the DNA results and passport logs to him by Friday. Clock’s ticking.”I deleted it instantly, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack. No more stalling. No more hoping this bitch would disappear. If I didn’t move, everything would blow up—Julian would find out I wasn’t Serena, my parents would burn, and God knows what would happen to the real Serena. Or me.I needed to get closer. His office. His laptop. His trust. And the fastest way to lower his guard was the one thing that always worked between us.I slipped out of bed, my legs shaky, and grabbed the black silk robe that barely
Lauren’s POV "You're wet," Julian said."It's raining.""I know what the weather is, Lauren."My stomach dropped at the name. He did that sometimes— called me Lauren, "my middle name". "I needed air," I said, peeling off my jacket and draping it over the chair. Casual. Easy. The same tone I used to use when a poker table went sideways and I needed every man in the room to believe I wasn't rattled.His eyes moved over me slowly, from bottom to top, cataloguing every detail the way he catalogued everything—like information was currency and he never stopped collecting."You needed air," he repeated. "At midnight. In the rain.""I'm allowed to have bad nights.""You're allowed to have bad nights inside this penthouse."I met his stare and didn't flinch. "Is that an order?"Something shifted in his jaw. It was not anger, it was hat slow, quiet pressure he built before the explosion. "It's an observation."He crossed the room and set the whiskey glass down on the table between us. His ey
Lauren’s POV The rain started before I even reached Silas's building.Seattle didn't do light drizzles. It came down hard and heavy, soaking through my jacket before I'd made it half a block from where I'd parked. I'd told Julian I needed air. Just air. He'd looked at me the way he always did lately—like he was already three moves ahead and waiting for me to catch up—and said nothing.That silence was worse than any question.I buzzed Silas's apartment with wet fingers. The door clicked open immediately, like he'd been watching for me. Maybe he had.His place was exactly what I'd expect from him—clean lines, no clutter, a single lamp throwing amber light across the room. No excess. No performance. Nothing like the penthouse with its cathedral ceilings and Julian's suffocating wealth pressing in from every wall.Silas stood by the window, his arms crossed and he was already dressed in a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looked tired. Not the kind of tired that
Julian's POV I heard every word.Silas thought the walls were thick enough. He thought distance was enough. It never is. Not with me.I stood in the corridor outside his apartment door for exactly four minutes before I walked away. Four minutes of listening to him hand her his heart like she had any business holding it. 'Love at first sight.' From the wedding. He'd been carrying that around for months, feeding it in silence, letting it grow.My right hand.The man I trusted with my life.I made it back to the penthouse before I let myself feel any of it.---Marcus was waiting in my office when I got in. One look at my face and he shut his mouth, set down whatever report he'd been holding, and found something urgent to study on the far wall. Smart man. He'd been with me long enough to read the difference between my moods. There was the cold that meant I was calculating. The quiet that meant someone had already been dealt with.And then there was this.He'd never seen this one before.
CHAPTER SEVENTEENLAUREN’S POVBy the time Julian brought me to a lunch meeting, I already knew one thing.Being his wife was not just exhausting.It was dangerous.The building was all glass, steel, and expensive silence. Men in suits moved too carefully. Women in polished smiles watched too much.
CHAPTER FIFTEENLAUREN’S POVI stopped breathing.Julian stood at the entrance of Dante Rossi’s private dining room like he had walked in just to make the whole ship remember who mattered more.His eyes found mine first.And just like that, every stupid choice that had brought me here climbed up my
CHAPTER ELEVENLAUREN’S POVJulian did not rush me.That was the first thing that made it worse.He just stood there for a second, looking down at me like he had all the time in the world, like he was deciding which part of me to cut open first. Then he dragged another chair across the floor and sa
CHAPTER SIXLAUREN’S POV “Shock,” I shot back immediately. “It's called shock, Julian. Have you heard of it?”His eyes narrowed. “Shock doesn't stop basic human reflexes. You stood there like a stone.”“Maybe I'm just used to the pain of being around you,” I spat.He opened his mouth to reply, his







