KILLIANI unwrapped Josie layer by layer until I could fully admire every stunning inch of her skin. Then I laid her down on the bed and traced every peak and valley with my fingertips. I could feel the gentle shiver coursing through her as I reached the curve of the breasts. Then my mouth replaced the fingers, and I took my time worshiping the sensitive pink skin of her nipples. She moaned as I nibbled on the hardening peak, and I couldn't help but smile.Her hands restlessly traveled down, gripping the hem of my tee and dragging it up. Chuckling softly, I pulled it over my head. She bit her lip as her fingers explored my chest and abdomen as if she wanted to memorize every muscle in my body. Her expression changed suddenly, and she sucked in a sharp breath.“What's wrong?” I whispered, lowering my head to kiss her.Her lips stretched into a smile, but her eyes filled with sorrow. “I love you,” she murmured.My brows knitted. “That's not an answer.”“Nothing's wrong,” she muttered, h
JOSIEThree Days Later“Thank you! Goodbye!” I waved my hand and smiled at the two men who had just finished carrying the final piece of furniture into my new apartment.I closed the door, feeling absolutely exhausted, as if I were the one doing all the heavy lifting instead of the bulky men who had just left. I took a few steps and slumped on the sofa in the center of my new spacious salon. My eyes drifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Rittenhouse Square, and I let out a long sigh.The view was lovely, and so was the entire apartment, but I missed New York. Perhaps I was an idiot for choosing Philadelphia instead of somewhere further away. Perhaps I should have moved to the West Coast... or to Alaska, but I didn't think I could bear being that far away from Killian.It was the third day of my "exile,” and I was already going crazy. The restlessness was eating me alive. Only now did I realize what a perfect distraction my job had been. Without it, all I could do was thin
Hope. It filled every inch of me. I could hear it hum beneath my skin, satiating me with warmth. I felt it long after I put down the phone and went to bed. It might be over soon. I would return to New York, to Killian, to my friends... Soon.My smile remained as I closed my eyes, trying to drift into sleep. But the sleep didn't come, and as I tried to find a way to travel into unawareness, my anxieties crawled out to the surface again.What if something went wrong? What if the evidence turned out to be fake? What if it wasn't fake but still not enough to convict Yan Hao? Suddenly, I couldn't breathe again. There were too many variables. Too many aspects that we might not even know about...“He is always a few steps ahead,” I muttered, recalling what Maxwell Blair had said about Yan Hao. It was as if that bastard had his eyes everywhere…The realization hit me, and suddenly I was on my feet, running to my computer. My heart thundered in my chest as I entered my virtual drive, going thr
I wasn't sure if I was more annoyed or curious when I was on the way to meet David. We had chosen a different place this time. We needed a place with private rooms and soundproof doors. It turned out there was a place like this in Philadelphia—a restaurant owned by one of Gunner's old friends.It took me more than thirty minutes to get to the restaurant in Chestnut Hill. I wasn't particularly happy, knowing I would waste more than an hour moving around the city—the time, which should be consumed on working on my newest project. Now I could only hope that whatever David was about to tell me would be worth wasting that time…The restaurant was called Himitsu, meaning Secret in Japanese. The name was quite adequate since the entrance looked like the porch of a neglected house with no signs mentioning the restaurant outside. As soon as I passed the threshold, a smiling concierge led me to long, round stairs going down. Yep, it turned out the restaurant was in the deep basement... I cursed
KILLIAN“I have a few important things to tell you,” Josie said, uneasiness threading her voice.She called me around eleven o'clock, and when we finished talking, it was way past midnight. She told me about her meeting with the reporter, David Scott, and what she had learned from him. I wasn't sure I was breathing as she revealed the new, far more terrifying version of what had happened over a decade ago.I needed to tell my father... although I didn't know how. Maxwell Blair was a cold, calculated son of a bitch most of the time, but I knew that he had loved his brother. Learning that he had given money to his killer would be a devastating blow for him.Kaiden had to learn about it, too, and God only knew how he would react to that. Would he blame my father? Probably. Would he try to beat the holy shit out of him? Most likely.There was one thing I could be certain, though: after hearing the news, both, Kaiden and my father, would definitely want Yan Hao dead. Yet killing Yan Hao mi
“I believe you still owe me an apology, Killian.” Mother strode toward me as I left Father's study. “I think you finally know what a lying wench your ex-girlfriend is. It would have been so much easier if you'd just believed me those years ago.”I faced her, holding her stare for a moment before lowering my head. “I apologize. I admit… I misjudged your motives. Yet I still don't approve of the methods you used.”She folded her arms across her chest. “Fair enough,” she muttered, pushing past me and walking toward her orangery.I watched her in growing disbelief. “And that's it? You just want to end our years of cold treatment this way?” I stepped toward her, my hands fisting into balls. “Not to mention, after everything you've just heard... you're just going to walk away and drink tea?!”She halted and turned around. “What do you want me to do? Scream? Slap your father for being so foolish?”I nodded. “I might have called it a quite normal reaction.”A bitter laugh escaped her. “You do
JOSIEThe moment Killian told me Gunner got the evidence we needed, I almost cried in relief. It was like the most important piece of the puzzle, and we finally had it. The next day, Gunner contacted his friends at the FBI, and the wheels were put into motion.Soon. That one word rang in my head. It was supposed to bring hope, but it also carried a great load of restlessness. The what-ifs swirled in my mind. After everything Killian and I had been through, getting that recording from the informant seemed suspiciously effortless. Of course, I might have been just paranoid, or I had grown too bitter and pessimistic to accept our luck. But I couldn't help it. There was an urgency within me—a need to know more, to be prepared for everything that Yan Hao might use against us.I hadn't slept for three days working on the Eye. I had used Tony's knowledge and contacts to buy the necessary equipment. Of course, my shopping had made him curious beyond the limits of sanity. He had spent a few ho
KILLIANSpecial Agent Samuel Brooks cautiously scanned every detail as Gunner, him, and I watched the horrifying footage of Yan Hao's murder. It was my third time watching it, but my stomach churned nonetheless.It was an execution. Two men dressed in black, with black caps obscuring most of their faces, dragged a beat-up man to the back of an industrial building. Yan Hao, dressed in an elegant black three-piece suit, stepped out of the car and walked over to his victim. The beat-up man's mouth opened as he said something to Yan Hao. The recording had no sound, but none of us had any doubts this was his plea. The man begged for his life as Yan Hao's two minions pushed him to his knees. Yan Hao waited, watching the poor bastard writhe in his minion's grip, crying. Then he pulled out his gun.It wasn't a quick death. Yan Hao took his time, shooting the man's thigh first, then his shoulder and stomach. None of the shots were lethal—he made sure of it—but they were all agonizing enough fo