12 days to move
Waking up felt like crawling out of a fog I didn't remember walking into.
I laid there for a while, watching the crack in the ceiling like it held the answers to the chaos brewing inside me. I didn't dream, I never did, but last night's thoughts? They were a haunting loop of broad shoulders, caramel skin, and a gaze that ignited a fire I hadn't felt in years. His scent still clung to my memory. Michael Creed.
I pushed myself off the bed, dragged on my hoodie, and went to the kitchen for water. My aunt was gone, thank God. Her energy was draining me lately. I downed the cold glass of water, hoping it would quench the growing heat I felt every time I remembered him.
Back in my room, I powered on my laptop and logged into my secure interface. My encrypted feeds were already humming, multiple surveillance windows lined the screen. I had eyes everywhere. But something strange caught my attention. A slight flicker, barely a frame, on camera 12. The system flagged it as a probable breach.
"Not today," I muttered, zooming in.
It was subtle, but there was definitely interference. A trace signature I'd seen before. I ran a deep trace on the origin. The results loaded slower than usual, but when they did… my breath hitched.
Creed Tower.
I leaned forward, my fingers flying across the keyboard. Why the hell was a corporate tower pinging my private line?
I did another crosscheck. Creed Tower housed Creed Risk & Recovery, a top-tier security agency I'd researched when I needed protection for my new place. It wasn't cheap, but their rep was solid. I'd only spoken to one person there, Jason. Smooth voice, professional demeanor. We hadn't met in person. Not yet.
But now, as I connected the dots, I realized Jason worked for Michael. Michael Creed. The same man whose gaze made my thighs press together involuntarily yesterday. The man I hadn't seen in five years. The man who still made my body ache with unspoken need.
"Shit," I whispered, leaning back.
Michael was unknowingly tied to my mission. And I was tangled in his.
The name Creed rang too close to home now. He owned the security company I'd hired, the building behind the interference, and the presence that stirred something primal in me at Carter's Café.
Could it be coincidence? No. In my line of work, coincidences were just undiscovered traps.
I locked my screen and stood. My heart thudded painfully against my ribs. The air in the room felt different. Like something was shifting, aligning.
If Michael was on the same trail, then maybe… just maybe, the rogue MI6 agent wasn't my only shadow. Maybe he was his too.
And if we crossed paths again?
Well. He wouldn't see Firefox this time.
He'd see Naomi.