Mag-log inRAINAThree days later and Sylvester's words still sat in my head like a stubborn headache.I hadn't deleted those texts, couldn't bring myself to stop staring at them.Like a dam being let loose, he'd said all the things he wanted to do to me.And what was worse? I couldn't tell him to stop.He'd thrown the decision into my lap and walked away.~Tell me you don't want me.~I hadn't answered.Because I couldn't.The realization sat heavy in my chest all day, every day.By Friday night, it was unbearable.We were supposed to meet at the diner at eight.Eight o'clock came and went.I checked the diner door for the fifth time.Nothing.The waitress topped off my coffee and gave me a sympathetic smile."Still waiting on someone?""Apparently."I looked down at my phone. No messages. No missed calls.Sylvester was late.Not five-minutes late. Not traffic late.An hour late.That wasn't like him.I called again.Straight to voicemail.A knot formed in my stomach.This case was dangerous. Th
RAINAA week rolled by after touching myself to the thought of Syvelster Brian.We met twice for case work. Once at the bookstore cafe. Once at a diner on the north side that he'd picked because nobody from Castor's circle would be caught dead eating there.Both times he behaved.Both times he was professional. Focused. He went through the intel. Asked the right questions. Took notes. Didn't flirt. Didn't touch me. Didn't mention the texts or any other of the incidents that had happened between us in the previous weeks.Both times the air between us was so charged I could barely sit still.It was in the pauses. The half second where his pen would stop moving and his eyes would lift from the notes and find me and something would pass between us that neither of us acknowledged. Then he'd look back down and keep writing and I'd take a breath and pretend my heart wasn't doing something reckless.By Friday, I'd almost convinced myself that we'd found a rhythm. A steady ground where two adu
RAINAI woke up slowly.For the first time in weeks, my body didn't jolt awake with that familiar knot of dread in my chest. I came to the surface gently. Like rising from deep water. The sheets were cool against my skin. The morning light was soft through the curtains. My limbs felt loose and heavy in a good way.I lay there for a moment, not moving, not thinking.Then the memory of last night came back.The bath. The hot water. My hand between my legs. His name in my head while my body came apart.Heat flooded my face.I pressed my hands over my cheeks and lay there like a teenager who'd just done something she couldn't take back. My skin was warm under my palms. My stomach was doing something fluttery and stupid that I was too old to be feeling.But I felt it anyway.I lay there for another minute. Letting it stew. The embarrassment, the warmth and the strange, reckless excitement that came with both.Then I reached for the burner phone.I pulled it from behind the panel in my clo
RAINAAfter my meeting with Sylvester at the bookstore, I went over to visit my mother at the restaurant.We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the business, the ongoing campaign and every other small topic. Whenever she tried to ask questions about my marital life, I side-stepped and changed the subject. The sun had set in the sky when I finally made my way home.The house was quiet when I got back.Castor was upstairs. I could hear the faint sound of his study door closing as I came through the kitchen. Maria had retired to the servants quarters in the east wing. The hallway lights were dimmed to their evening setting.I went to my room in the south wing. Closed the door. Locked it.I stood there for a moment in the dark. Just going over my day.~I'll try not to think about you tonight.~The words floated in my mind.His voice was still in my ear. His scent was still on my skin. Despite the time I'd spent with my Mom, the heat in my belly hadn't faded. It had followed me
RAINAThe Next Day.After Syvelster's daring texts last night, I worked up the courage to tell him I wasn't coming to his apartment anymore.He'd suggested the cafe without missing a beat. A small place at the back of an old bookstore on the east side. The kind of place where people came to read, not to be seen. He said he'd been there before. Back table. No foot traffic. No cameras.I told myself this was better. Public. Safe. Professional.I walked in at two o'clock in the afternoon carrying a folder of notes Maria had helped me put together. Names. Dates. Staff rotation schedules not at the mansion alone, even up to the Rowland holdings. Everything organized. Everything in order.Speaking of which, Maria seemed to know a lot about the Rowland family and their enterprise. I guess fourteen years was enough time to really know a family in and out.But what suprised me more was her willingness to help without asking questions as to why I needed this information and what I wanted to use
SYLVESTERThe campaign speech was due tomorrow.I'd been sitting at my desk for four hours. The laptop was open. The cursor was blinking on a half-finished paragraph about infrastructure reform that I'd written and deleted three times.Infrastructure reform.I couldn't even say the words in my head without her face replacing them.She'd stood in the middle of my living room this evening with her arms crossed and her jaw set and told me it couldn't happen again. She'd called it a mistake. Said she wasn't thinking clearly. She'd used the word professional like it was a wall she was building between us, brick by brick, while I watched.I'd let her build it.Then I'd asked her one question and the whole thing came down.Did you like it?The silence that followed was the loudest thing I'd ever heard. She hadn't said no. She hadn't said yes. She'd just stood there with her arms crossed and her eyes full of something she was fighting so hard to keep inside that I could see the effort in her
SYLVESTERBut right now, with her eyes back to my mouth, and her scent filling my lungs...I wasn't thinking about how brave she was.The way her body had pressed against mine was still burned into my memory from the factory.This close to her I couldn't think straight.I was thinking about how her
SYLVESTERI was in my study with a stack of files spread out across the desk when the doorbell rang.Nine o'clock on a Tuesday night. I wasn't expecting anyone. Patrick was in D.C. for the week. Nobody else had this address except the people who needed it.I closed the file I'd been reading. A prop
RAINAThe new boy had been in the house for two days when I went back to Teddy's room.I brought the usual tray. Soup. Bread. Water. I'd stopped expecting him to eat it in front of me. The routine was simple. I brought it. I sat. I left. The bowl was empty by morning.Today, his door was open a cr
RAINAFive days later.I saw him from my bedroom window on Tuesday's afternoon.A black SUV pulled up to the side entrance. The kind with tinted windows and no plates I could read from this distance. The driver got out first. Walked around to the back door. Opened it.A boy stepped out.He was smal







