COLD SHEETS AND A NAME

CHAPTER THREE

RYDER POV

My hand reached across the bed automatically, searching for warmth, for her, and found nothing but cold sheets.

She was gone.

I sat up slowly, running a hand through my hair, and looked around the bedroom. Her clothes were gone. The bathroom door stood open but there was no sound of water running, no hint of movement anywhere in the penthouse.

She'd left.

I should've expected it.

Girls like her… the genuine ones, the ones who kissed like they were drowning and looked at you like you were the only thing keeping them afloat, they always ran. Especially the morning after, when reality came crashing back and they realized they'd spent the night with a stranger.

But damn if it didn't sting a little.

I leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling, and let myself replay last night.

The way she'd looked in that bar, devastated and defiant all at once. The way she'd kissed me like she was trying to erase someone else. The way she'd fallen apart in my arms, vulnerable and raw and so fucking beautiful it had made my chest ache.

I'd had plenty of one-night stands.

It was the occupational hazard of being young, rich, and not particularly interested in commitment. But this felt different.

She felt different.

A smile tugged at my lips despite the empty bed.

I stood, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched out below, steel and glass glittering in the morning light. Somewhere out there, she was probably beating herself up for last night. Probably convincing herself it was a mistake.

It wasn't a mistake.

I didn't know why I was so sure of that, but I was. Something about her had crawled under my skin, and I had the unsettling feeling it was going to stay there.

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I called without turning around.

Marcus, my assistant, though he preferred "executive coordinator,” entered with his usual brisk efficiency. Tablet in hand, suit pressed and trousers lined like they could fall apart.

He was… him and I kept him around because he was efficient.

"Good morning, Mr. Cross," he said. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but you have a board meeting at Quantum Industries in two hours. The investors are expecting the Q4 projections, and Henderson is already calling about the cryptocurrency integration proposal."

Right. The meeting. The one I'd completely forgotten about because I'd been too busy picking up a beautiful stranger at a bar.

"Tell Henderson the integration proposal is approved," I said, still looking out the window. "We'll implement it in phases starting Q1. And send the projections to my phone. I'll review them in the car."

"Of course, sir." Marcus made notes on his tablet. "Will you be requiring breakfast? Chef can prepare…”

"Just coffee. Black."

"Very good, sir."

Marcus turned to leave, then paused close to the door.

I glanced over my shoulder. Marcus bent down and picked up something small, white, rectangular.

My pulse kicked up as he crossed the room and handed it to me. The plastic was slightly bent, the clip on the back broken. But the name printed on it in neat black letters made my chest tighten.

ELENA MARSHALL

VIV'S HOUSE RESTAURANT

Elena.

Her name was Elena Marshall.

I said it out loud, let it roll off my tongue. "Elena."

It sounded right. Felt right in my mouth, like I'd been meant to say it all along.

I smiled despite myself, running my thumb over the printed letters. She'd left me her name. Maybe accidentally, maybe not, but I had it now. I had a way to find her.

"Marcus," I said, still staring at the tag. "Find out everything you can about this restaurant. Viv's House. And this woman… Elena Marshall."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, the only sign of surprise he ever allowed himself. "Sir?"

"Location, hours of operation, employee records if you can access them. I want her address, her phone number, her social security number if we can get it legally." I looked up at him. "How fast can you do it?"

Marcus's fingers were already flying across his tablet. "The restaurant information will take five minutes. Personal information... give me fifteen if we're staying legal. Ten if we're not."

"Stay legal. Mostly." I handed him the name tag. "And Marcus? Make it fast."

He took the tag, studied it for a moment, then looked at me with something that might have been concern on anyone else's face. "May I speak freely, sir?"

"When have you ever not?"

"You're not usually this... interested in your overnight guests."

I turned back to the window, watching the city wake up below. "She's not an overnight guest."

"Then what is she?"

Good question. One I didn't have an answer to. Not yet, anyway.

"Someone I need to see again," I said finally.

Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then his tablet pinged. "Viv's House Restaurant. Upscale French cuisine. Located in Manhattan, corner of Fifth and 42nd. Currently closed due to... ah." He scrolled. "Due to an incident last night involving a waitress and the owner's daughter."

My jaw tightened. "What kind of incident?"

"According to the police report filed this morning, a waitress assaulted a customer by throwing a drink on them. The customer—Vivienne Laurent, daughter of Laurent Tech CEO Richard Laurent—pressed charges for assault. The waitress was fired on the spot." Marcus looked up. "The waitress's name was Elena Marshall."

So she hadn't just been drunk and sad last night. She'd been fired. Assaulted someone, probably for a damn good reason, knowing what I knew about her.

"What else?" I demanded.

Marcus's fingers flew. "Elena Marshall, age twenty-four. Current address..." He rattled off an address in Queens. "No criminal record prior to last night. Works—worked—three jobs. Waitress at Viv's House, morning shift at Lou's Diner, and freelance data entry. No college degree. Parents deceased, car accident when she was 5 years old. Raised in foster care."

Something cold settled in my chest. Foster care. No family. Working three jobs just to survive.

And her asshole ex-fiancé had used her, cheated on her, thrown her away.

"Keep going," I said quietly.

"Bank account is... essentially empty." Marcus scrolled further. "Lots of credits to a David Chen. Who is..." More scrolling. "Her fiancé. Or was. He's now listed as in a relationship with Vivienne Laurent on social media as of last night."

Of course he was. The pieces fell into place—Elena working herself to death for her boyfriend who traded her up for a billionaire's daughter.

I was going to find David Chen and break every bone in his body.

"Sir?" Marcus said carefully. "Your meeting?"

"Cancel it."

"Sir, the investors have been waiting for this meeting for three months. If you cancel now…"

"Reschedule for this afternoon. Tell them something came up. Tell them whatever you want, I don't care." I turned to face him fully. "Where does Elena Marshall live?"

Marcus looked at me for a long moment. Then he sighed and pulled up the address again. "Queens. 43rd Avenue. Apartment 4B. But sir, if you're planning to—"

"I'm planning to make sure she's okay," I interrupted. "She had a hell of a night. Lost her job, her fiancé, probably her entire life as she knew it. And then she..."

Spent the night with me because she needed to feel like she mattered to someone.

The memory of her voice saying those words made my chest ache.

"And then she left before I could make sure she got home safe," I finished.

Marcus studied me with those sharp eyes that had made him invaluable as an assistant. "You're going after her."

"Yes."

"You're going to pursue a woman who ran away from you this morning."

"Yes."

"A woman who works three jobs, has no money, just lost everything, and probably thinks last night was the worst mistake of her life."

"Yes," I said again, more firmly. "Because she's wrong. Last night wasn't a mistake. And I'm going to prove it to her."

I wasn't the kind of man who let go of something just because it ran. I'd built a billion-dollar company by chasing down opportunities that everyone else thought were crazy. I'd revolutionized cryptocurrency by refusing to give up when every expert said it couldn't be done.

And I sure as hell wasn't going to let Elena Marshall disappear from my life just because she was scared.