The moment I stepped back into my office, the energy felt different. Stale. Like my focus had been hijacked and left somewhere back at Carter's Café. I dropped my keys on the glass table, loosened my tie, and walked to the liquor cabinet even though it was barely 4 PM. But fuck it, I needed something to burn away the confusion and arousal pulsing through me like a second heartbeat.
Naomi.
It was her. I knew it with every damn fiber of my being. Her walk, her curves, that subtle sway of her hips that haunted me even in sleep, it was her.
The same girl who'd stolen my first real kiss behind the academy's barracks during orientation week. The same one I thought I'd never see again after that fucking mission went to hell five years ago.
My hand trembled slightly as I poured a drink. I took a long swig and leaned back against the counter.
Just seeing her again had my body in chaos. The moment our eyes locked, it was like something raw and ancient surged in me. My cock was hard the second I spotted her, hidden behind those oversized black glasses, dressed in all-black like she was trying to disappear into the shadows. But I saw her. Every curve. Every sway. The swell of her full thighs, the roundness of her ass encased in those snug pants, the perfect outline of her waist… God. I could feel the heat pool low in my belly. If Grayson hadn't interrupted, I'd have followed her like a damn dog in heat.
I slammed the glass down and walked to my desk, fingers already tapping on the intercom.
"Camilla," I said to my secretary.
"Yes, sir?"
"Get Jason on the line. Now."
Within minutes, Jason's face appeared on the screen. His brows rose when he saw my expression.
"You good?" he asked.
"No," I snapped. "Send me the café's surveillance footage from earlier today, Carter's Café. Every external and internal angle."
He blinked. "You think it's connected?"
"I don't know what I saw. Just get me the fucking footage."
"Got it. Give me an hour."
I cut the call and ran both hands through my hair before heading to the private elevator.
I needed space. I needed silence.
---
Creed's Tower – Penthouse
The soft click of the penthouse door echoed behind me. I dropped my suit jacket and walked straight to the living area, where the city's skyline stretched endlessly through the wall-length glass. But none of it mattered.
I made my way to the fireproof safe built into the bookshelf and entered the code. The steel lock clicked open, revealing a small stack of items I never let anyone touch. And right there, beneath a sealed folder labeled "Mission 9X", was the photo.
A printed shot from one of the surveillance cams the academy used for training. Naomi, in full black gear, smirking at me like she knew every damn thing about me and held it all in her back pocket.
I sank into the leather chair, photo in hand, and stared at it for a long time. The last time I saw her was inside that goddamn warehouse.
I was on the roof, covering her escape route, but everything went sideways. She never made it to the extraction point.
Later that night, the news confirmed a gas explosion in her Upper East Side apartment. Nothing remained. No trace. No body.
I'd lived five years between hope and grief, convincing myself she was gone. I told myself if she were alive, she'd reach out. I told myself she wouldn't abandon me.
But now? She was here. Alive. Looking like a damn goddess who crawled out of hell just to tempt me.
I pressed the photo to my lips, my voice low and rough.
"I don't know why you disappeared, Naomi. Or why you stayed gone. But I'm going to find out. Even if it kills me."