SLOANE


    Initially, I''d been skeptical about what a meeting with Hunter, who ims he has bad blood with me, would be like.


    I half expected an ambush or some kind of ego-


    driven showdown, but so far, it''s been surprisingly... normal. Almost too normal. Hunter is a good conversationalist, I''ll give him that. He doesn''t miss a beat, steering the topics around the table like a well- trained ma?tre d'' of words, making the pauses smooth, theughter effortless.


    He''s nothing like the scheming antagonist he paints himself to be. Honestly, I''m beginning to see


    why Knox called him a softie. He''s kind of sweet. Charming in the way that makes you forget your drink is empty until he signals the waiter before you even reach for it.


    It''s the other man on our table that scares me.


    Mateo Torres.


    He doesn''t speak much. When he does, it''s like he''s dissecting me, not holding a conversation. Every time I think the topic will swing to what my new role would involve- which is Hunter''s angle-


    it gets deflected. Not rudely. But firmly. And always toward me. Personal questions. Like he''s trying to measure who I am outside of my resume.


    Hunter''s leaning forward now, azy smile on his face. "I, myself, am just getting to know


    a little about all this tech and firewall stuff," he says, nudging his wine ss toward Mateo as if he''s confessing a secret. "Mr. Torres pulled me out of the investment banking world after all. But you have a way of


    I smile politely. "I believe things shouldn''t be overexined," I reply, keeping up the performance. "If you''re passionate about a project, you should be able


    to make someone else understand-and maybe even be passionate too."


    "I agree," Mateo says. "Are you by any chance married, Sloane?"


    I pause, unsure if I''m supposed to answer that.


    "I mean, your file says you''re single," he adds with a slight smile, adjusting his sses. "But


    that


    was registered years ago. And I also don''t see a ring on your finger. Of course, some people consider it a cultural thing not to wear one."


    "I''m not married, Mr. Torres."


    "Mateo, please."


    "Of course."


    There''s a pause.


    "Would you like more of that?" Hunter asks, gesturing toward my te. There''s a half-


    finished serving of


    what was once a perfectly ted risotto, creamy and delicate, topped with microgreens that I barely touched.


    "No, thank you. I''m full."


    "Dessert?"


    "Honestly, I''m fine."


    Hunter''s gaze keeps drifting toward the entrance like he''s expecting someone. I notice the little nces, the way his posture shifts. And it''s obvious that he''s dragging this dinner out on purpose. At this point, we Mateo has asked me nearly everything Where I went to college. What I majored in. What my GPA was. The name of the pet inas n?o My mother''s maiden name. Hell, Il he asked for my menstrual cycle, I would surprised. I tell myself this a normal Erecuevé ar but tongues and ice behind their smiles, Curiosity is a power y. And I''m indulging it because I need this job. Or at least, I think I do. The questions continue.


    Hex just asked me about hobbies I might consider picking up in the future when my eyes catch movement near the entrance.


    Knox.


    God, my heart skips so fast that I almost forget where I am.


    He walks in like he owns the ce. His eyes search, then settle on me. I want to smile. Want to run to him. But I remember that it would be unprofessional.


    It hits me right then that he probably stalked me here. Or... maybe not. Because when I nce at Hunter, there''s this smug, satisfied curve to his mouth that tells a different story. Did he call Knox? Knox''s eyes are still on me. I can feel the heat crawling up my neck, flooding my cheeks. I tear my gaze away fast, pretending to be fascinated by the table linen, anything but the man staring holes into my soul. I can''t afford to look like a lovesick idiot in front of Mateo, not when his back is turned to Knox and he has no idea there''s a storm brewing just behind him.


    Mateo doesn''t miss my reaction. "Are you alright, Sloane?" he asks.


    "I''m fine."


    "You look red in the face."


    "Must be something spicy I inhaled."


    "Would you like them to bring you more water? Or juice? Or milk?"


    "It''s fine, Mateo."


    I sneak another nce at Knox. He''s now being


    ushered to an empty table in the corner. He sits and doesn''t open the menu. His eyes stay on me. The tight set of his jaw tells me what I need


    to know. He''s not here for food. He''s here for me. And he''s angry.


    "I believe we''ve exhausted all that we need to say, isn''t that right, Sloane?" Hunter


    says, rising slightly in his chair.


    "I believe so."


    “Alright then. I had a nice time. I''ll drop you back at work so you can get your car."


    "That''s alright, Mr. ckwell. I''ll find my way there."


    "We insist," Mateo says, rising more slowly, leaning on his cane.


    I can''t say no to my bosses. Knox is standing now too, giving me an


    eye message that says, ''Stay back.''


    I respond by mouthing, ''Sorry. Later. Meet me. Office?''


    His jaw flexes.


    Outside, Hunter''s car is already pulled up. It''s a relief they don''t have me riding with Mateo. Lelimb into the backseat beside Hunter, and as ther shifts into gear, he turns to me.


    "So, how''s that pretty sister of yours?" he asks, too casually.


    I narrow my eyes. "I thought we were pretending not to know each other."


    "In front of Mateo, yes. I made you a promise, and I''m keeping it."


    "The promotion is supposed to be a punishment?"


    "Isn''t it?"


    "Seriously, Hunter, you''ve got to do better. You''re not a very good viin. You should


    ask me for tips."


    "You do understand what your new role might entail, right?"


    "And you understand that my boyfriend is capable of meeting me anywhere in the world if he wants to see me, right?"


    Heughs softly. "You just say that because you''ve not started the life yet. Passion and love die fast with a sudden climb in career. And I''ll be keeping my fingers crossed."


    He


    looks up at the mirror. "That''s your boyfriend following behind us. He''s pissed."


    I turn to the rear window.


    Sure enough, Knox''s car is trailing us like a shadow.


    I shake my head. "You can just go to him, Hunter. No need to try to manipte your way back into his life."


    He goes quiet, fingers tapping on the seat. I leave him be. My eyes stay fixed on the mirror. Every turn we take, Knox''s headlights follow. He''s not going away.


    When we finally reach my workce, I don''t wait. I step out quickly. "Enjoy your weekend, Mr. ckwell," I say, walking away before he can say more.


    I pretend to head to my car as Hunter''s pulls away from the parking lot. That''s when Knox drives in. He exits the vehicle like it''s burning from the inside.


    "Sloane?" he calls.


    "Knox."


    He strides toward me with purpose. And before I can brace, his arms are around me, wrapping tight like iron bands around my ribs. My face presses against his chest, and the breath rushes out of me in a gasp.


    "Ouch," I whisper. "You''re crushing me."


    But he doesn''t ease up right away.


    "I''ve missed you," he says.


    "You have a destructive way of showing it."


    He pulls back just enough to look at me. "Can''t a man show how much he missed hisdy?"


    "By crushing my ribs? By the way, what was that about?"


    "What was what about?"


    "You followed me to my dinner meeting, Knox."


    "I had to."


    "You didn''t have to do anything. This is not the 18th century. I don''t need a chaperone


    because I''m out with some men.''


    "In this case," He cups my jaw, "you do. You''re moving in with me today."


    "Uh-uh."


    I gear myself up to protest about him letting Hunter manipte him. And how I''m not going to share a roof with my stepfather. The words don''t get a chance tond as he says


    “I think you might be in danger, Bunny."