LOGINThe words hung in the air like a death sentence.Lauren felt the blood drain from her face. "What?""My guy pulled photos," Nate said quietly. "Michelle Matthews at sixteen. Before she had to leave New York. Before her father died. Lauren, you could be sisters. Same bone structure, same coloring, same... well, everything. The resemblance is uncanny.""Jesus Christ," Wyatt breathed, his arm tightening around Lauren's waist."I'm sending the photo with everything else," Nate continued. "But Lauren, I think you need to understand what this means. Liam's not just obsessed with you. You might be the woman he's been looking for his entire adult life. The one who got away, version 2.0."Lauren felt sick. Couldn't process. Michelle Matthews, the first girl Liam had stalked, the one whose father had died trying to protect her, looked like her?"That's why he won't let this go," Nate said. "That's why he is most likely stalking you if he has never done it before. We just don't know. You're not
Wyatt hit the button to answer, putting the phone on speaker as he set it on the shooting station counter. Lauren moved closer, her body still humming with adrenaline and arousal, but that faded quickly when she saw the grimness in Wyatt's expression."Talk to me," Wyatt said."Found it." Nate's voice was tight, controlled in that way that meant he was pissed off. "And it's worse than we thought."Lauren's stomach dropped. How could it be worse?"I'll start with what Officer Clark hinted at," Nate continued. "Michelle Matthews. Now Michelle Benson, married, living in San Diego. Works as a graphic designer. Hasn't been back to New York since 2016.""Clark mentioned looking at March or April 2016, what was that about did you find anything?" Wyatt said."Robert Matthews. Michelle's father. Single-vehicle collision, it was a wet night, went off a bridge six weeks after Michelle moved to California to live with her aunt." Nate paused. "Accident investigation found no evidence of tampering,
The photo shoot took exactly two hours, just as she was promised. Lauren moved through the different setups with the lead actor, moody lighting against exposed brick, softer shots with gauzy fabric, dramatic poses that the creative director guided her through with enthusiasm.She was good at this part. The performing. The becoming someone else for the camera. It was easier than being herself right now, easier than thinking about Liam sitting in that diner, planning God knew what.Wyatt never moved from his position against the wall. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time, tracking every movement, every person who came near her. When a male photographer's assistant got a little too close while adjusting a reflector, Wyatt shifted, and the guy immediately stepped back without even looking at him.It was like Wyatt radiated some kind of invisible warning that only other men could sense. Even the leading man had looked towards Wyatt a time or two."That's a wrap!" the creative dir
Lauren woke to find Wyatt already up, dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt, standing at her bedroom window with his phone pressed to his ear. He was listening, and he mustn't like what he was hearing because his body language screamed tension.She pushed herself upright, watching him. The early morning light filtering through the curtains caught the hard line of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the way his hand rested near his hip where she was guessing his weapon was already holstered."Okay... got it." He ended the call, turned, and found her watching him. "Morning.""Morning." Her voice came out rough with sleep. "Everything okay?""Nate's team has eyes on Liam. He didn't go home last night. Stayed at some dive bar in Brooklyn until closing, then went to a twenty-four-hour diner. He's there now, just... sitting. Drinking coffee. Staring at his phone.""Planning something," Lauren said, ice sliding down her spine."Most likely." Wyatt crossed to the bed, sat on the edge. "But w
The apartment door closed behind them. Lauren stood frozen in the entryway, Officer Clark's words still ringing in her ears. 'Sometimes people who stand between a stalker and their target have accidents. Car accidents. Muggings gone wrong.'Her hands were shaking. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps that she couldn't seem to control. The image of Wyatt lying in a pool of blood, of Liam standing over him with that twisted smile, of losing the one person who made her feel safe—"Lauren." Wyatt's voice cut through the spiral. "Hey. Look at me."She couldn't. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe properly. Couldn't stop seeing— What if something happened to him because of her. She loved him.Then his hands were on her shoulders, firm and warm, pulling her against his chest. His arms came around her, solid and reassuring, and she collapsed into him, her fingers fisting in his shirt."I can't—" The words caught in her throat. "Wyatt, if he hurts you because of me, if something happens to you—"
Sarah showed her badge to the doorman, Tom, according to his name tag, and asked to be announced to Lauren Gardener's apartment. "Is she expecting you, Officer Clark?" Tom asked, reaching for the phone. "No, but she'll want to see me. It's about her case." Tom made the call, spoke quietly, then nodded. "You can go on up.” Sarah took the elevator up, using the ride to organize her thoughts. She had to be careful here. Had to give them enough information to protect themselves without explicitly violating the laws that kept Michelle Matthews case sealed. Liam had been a minor. The elevator doors opened, and she found Wyatt Heywood waiting in the hallway outside the apartment, arms crossed, his body language screaming pissed-off male. He had to know it wasn’t good news. Why else would she come by instead of calling? She was glad Lauren had him as protection. He was a fucking huge dude and, from what she could get on him, lethal. A lot of his file while in the SEALs was sealed. "Offi
Honey's entire body shuddered as pleasure exploded through her, her inner walls clamping down on Grayson's finger. Her hand gripped the edge of the conference table so tightly her knuckles turned white as she fought to stay silent, biting her lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. The orgasm c
Grayson laughter filled the room, shocking Honey that he was taking her outburst so well. She wasn't sure how he would feel about Morgan really knowing about them instead of her guesses. But Morgan was already creating drama without her saying anything. Honey could not just stand there and take it.
Monday, October 16th, 7:15 AMHoney stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection with a mix of determination and dread. Today was the day. No more Joy Smith. No more hiding behind ugly suits and brown wigs.Well, one last time.She'd spent most of Sunday at her father's estate,
Wednesday, October 18th, 6:35 PMHoney stepped out of the Taylor Industries building into the crisp evening Amanda fell into step beside her, professional vigilance as she scanned the area looking for any trouble. Namely Riley."Busy Day." Amanda commented still looking around.Honey had decided no







