Chapter 3: Morning Intrusion

Chapter 3: Morning Intrusion

Sebastian woke at 4:58 a.m., three minutes before his alarm. Habit. The penthouse was silent except for the low hum of the city far below. He lay still for ten seconds listening. No footsteps. No clicks of cameras. Just the faint scent of leather that hadn't been there yesterday.

Kane.

He threw off the sheets, pulled on black joggers and a fitted gray tank, and headed to the gym. The pull-up bar waited like an accusation. He gripped it, hauled himself up once, twice. Muscles burned clean. No eyes on him this time. Or so he told himself.

At 5:32, he finished sweat cooling on his skin and walked barefoot to the kitchen. Coffee machine hissed to life. Black. No sugar. He leaned against the island, scrolling encrypted emails on his phone.

The front door clicked open.

Sebastian's head snapped up.

Kane stepped inside without knocking. Same dark suit, fresh shirt, no tie yet. Hair still damp from a shower somewhere probably the building's security floor. He carried a black duffel slung over one shoulder.

"You don't knock?" Sebastian asked, voice flat.

"You don't lock your bedroom door at night." Kane set the bag down. "Even trade."

Sebastian's grip tightened on the mug. "I lock everything that matters."

Kane's gaze flicked over him tank clinging to damp skin, joggers low on hips, bare feet. Assessment again. Clinical. Possessive.

"Not everything," Kane said. He crossed the open space, stopped at the island's edge. "You sleep facing the door. Left side of the bed. Covers pulled to your chin like armor. But the door stays unlocked. Why?"

Sebastian set the mug down harder than intended. "Because I live alone."

"Not anymore."

Kane moved around the island. Slow. Deliberate. Sebastian held position—back to the counter now, Kane closing the distance until only a foot separated them.

"You need to eat before the 7 a.m. briefing," Kane said. "Protein. Not just caffeine."

"I'm not hungry."

"You will be." Kane reached past Sebastian close enough that his arm brushed Sebastian's ribs and opened the fridge. Pulled out eggs, spinach, a prepped container of chicken. Set them on the counter like he owned the space.

Sebastian stared. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Cooking." Kane cracked eggs into a pan. Flame hissed low. "You burn through calories faster than most. Four hours sleep, high stress, no fuel you crash by noon. I've seen it in operators. Won't happen on my watch."

Sebastian laughed once sharp. "I'm not one of your soldiers."

Kane glanced sideways. "No. You're softer. More breakable." He stirred the eggs. "But you pretend otherwise. That's dangerous."

Heat crawled up Sebastian's neck. Not just anger. The casual way Kane said it like fact. Like he'd already cataloged every vulnerability.

Sebastian stepped forward, intending to shove past. Kane turned at the same moment. Their bodies collided chest to chest for a split second. Sebastian's hand came up instinctively to push Kane back.

Kane caught his wrist. Firm. Not painful. Thumb pressed over the pulse point.

Sebastian froze.

"You push when you should pull," Kane murmured. "Fight when you should yield." His grip didn't tighten just held. Steady. Controlling.

Sebastian's breath shortened. "Let go."

Kane studied his face. "You hate being touched. But your pulse jumps when I do it." Thumb stroked once slow circle over the vein. "Why fight what your body already knows?"

Sebastian yanked his hand free. Stepped back. "Because I don't know you."

"You will." Kane turned back to the pan. "Eat. Then shower. We leave in forty minutes."

Sebastian stared at the plate Kane slid across the island. Scrambled eggs, spinach, chicken. Perfect portions. He wanted to throw it in the sink.

Instead, he sat.

He ate in silence while Kane cleaned the counter efficient, no wasted movement. When Sebastian finished, Kane nodded once.

"Shower," Kane said. "I'll wait in the hall."

Sebastian stood. "You don't need to escort me to the bathroom."

Kane's mouth curved faintly. "I won't watch. But I'll hear if anything moves wrong."

Sebastian walked to the master suite, door half-open behind him. He stripped in the bathroom, turned the water scalding. Steam filled the glass enclosure. He stood under the spray, eyes closed, trying to wash away the feel of Kane's thumb on his wrist.

It didn't work.

By 6:45, he was dressed charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, black tie knotted precisely. He stepped into the foyer.

Kane waited. Now wearing a tie dark navy, knotted with military precision.

They rode the elevator down in silence. No jolt this time. Just the hum and the weight of Kane standing too close again.

At the lobby, Harlan Whitmore waited early, as always. The older man smiled when he saw Sebastian.

"Sebastian, my boy. A word before the briefing?"

Harlan's hand landed on Sebastian's shoulder paternal, familiar. Squeezed once.

Sebastian tolerated it. Barely.

Kane moved.

One step. Hand closed around Sebastian's opposite wrist same spot as earlier. Pulled him half a step sideways, away from Harlan. The motion looked casual. Protective.

Harlan blinked. "And you are?"

"Kane Maddox. Mr. Mercer's security."

Harlan's smile faltered. "Right. The new detail." His eyes flicked to where Kane still held Sebastian's wrist. "Everything under control?"

"Everything's handled," Kane said. Voice low. Final.

Sebastian felt the grip firm, possessive. Not letting go even after Harlan stepped back.

Harlan cleared his throat. "Good. See you upstairs."

He walked away.

Sebastian looked down at Kane's hand. Then up at his face.

"You don't get to decide who touches me."

Kane released him slowly. Fingers trailing off skin.

"I decide who gets close enough to hurt you." Kane's eyes held his. "And right now, that's no one but me."

Sebastian's throat tightened. Anger. Heat. Something dangerously close to want.

He turned toward the executive elevator.

Kane followed.

One step behind.

Always.

Sebastian pressed the button. Doors opened.

He stepped in.

Kane followed.

The doors closed.

And Sebastian realized he hadn't told Kane to stay back this time.