All Chapters of Sunlit Paradise: Undercover Desire: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Locked doors usually mean rich people are hiding something.”Belle caught me watching the sculpture crate roll through the door marked STORAGE TWO. The blood-stained packing vanished inside with it. The handler stepped out, tapped his key card against the reader, and the lock clicked.“Or something,” I said.I photographed the stain on my glove and sealed it inside a clean housekeeping bag. I could not send it through normal channels without explaining how I got it, but I was not throwing it away.“I need to check something in the supply area,” I told Belle.She studied me, then nodded. “Go.”I kept working while watching Storage Two, but the sculpture never came back out. When preparations ended, a temporary event worker left his clipboard and access card on a service cart while he carried a display stand away.I crossed the corridor, took the card, and swiped it at Storage Two. After returning it to the cart before he came back, I slipped inside. Rows of covered artwork and shippin

The pavilion still smelled of smoke and chemicals when we returned to the search area. Damien’s radio snapped through the hiss of the dying suppression system.“Backstage is clear. No sign of him.”I pushed away from the overturned cart. Pain caught beneath my ribs, but I kept moving toward the service door.Calvin stepped into my path.“He can still be inside the pavilion.”“He isn’t worth you opening that wound further.”“You don’t know how bad it is.”His gaze dropped to the blood darkening my wet uniform.“I know enough.”I tried to move around him. His hand closed around my good arm, firm but careful.“Let go.”“When you stop trying to chase an armed man while bleeding.”“He got away because we stopped.”Calvin’s face tightened. “He got away because I chose not to leave you on the floor.”The answer landed harder than I wanted it to. Damien crossed back from the service door.“Security is checking the loading access and exterior paths. If he stayed on resort property, we’ll narro

The lock turned behind Calvin. I kept the photograph and clipping in my hands, but my attention went to the door.“Tell me what you were hoping to find.”“An explanation.”“For breaking into my study?”“For why your name keeps appearing around dead people and restricted shipments.”His expression barely changed. He crossed the room and took the photograph from me without touching my fingers. Shirtless, he looked less like a resort CEO and more like the man in the tactical photograph. The old scar along his ribs made the connection harder to ignore.“You entered my study twice,” he said. “You follow cargo that has nothing to do with housekeeping, photograph documents you have no reason to read, and now you’re researching my police career.”The bandage beneath my shirt pulled when I straightened. “A man was murdered on your property. Someone attacked me inside your gallery. Your cameras fail at convenient times, and your signatures keep appearing on suspicious approvals. You want me to

C A L V I NThe study door clicked shut behind Siobhan, and I reached for the drawer key before her footsteps faded down the corridor.Leaving her police identification in a locked desk had been enough when only she and I knew it was there. But it was not enough now. I opened the drawer and lifted the card.Detective Siobhan Elise Rust.The photograph showed the woman beneath Sienna Blake’s careful makeup and controlled lies. Same eyes, same direct stare, though the photograph made her look far more patient. I crossed to the wall safe hidden behind a cabinet panel, entered the code, and placed the identification inside.The first time I found that card, my head had been pounding. I had woken on Apollo with one shoulder against the floor and blood drying near my temple. The woman who had been half-naked in my arms was gone. So were the dress, the wig, the gun she had hidden, and whatever else she had been desperate to recover before leaving me unconscious.She had missed one thing. The

I folded my arms, careful of the sore place along my ribs. “You do not get to interrogate me because you are jealous.”“I am not jealous.”“Then Vincent Hale being my partner should have been enough of an answer.”“It wasn’t.”“That sounds remarkably like jealousy.”Calvin held my gaze. “He has access to you that most people don’t. He knows where you are, where you’re going, and somehow reaches you every time something happens.”“He’s my closest friend. We’ve worked together for years. He knows me better than most people do.”His expression barely changed. “Is that all?”“Yes. He’s my partner, my friend, and practically family. If you’re asking whether there’s something romantic between us, there isn’t.”Calvin said nothing.I almost laughed. “You really are jealous.”“That isn’t the only reason I’m asking.”“But it is one of them.”His expression tightened just enough to answer for him.I stepped closer. “You moved me into your house, control what I can access, and keep deciding what