Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“No. This isn’t real.” I take her phone gently. “This was made. Crafted.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and that makes my fists curl. “By Tasha?”
Whoever did this isn’t just attacking her anymore.
They’re attacking us.
“This is personal,” I mutter. “Jealous. Petty. Targeted.”
River wipes her cheek. “You think it was Tasha?”
I hesitate.
She reads my face.
“She is the only one who’s said anything about us,” River says quietly. “Back at work. She gave me that weird look a few days ago. Like she knew. And at girl’s night. She knows.”
“Yeah.”
“She asked if we were dating,” River adds, voice hollow. “I said no. She didn’t believe me.”
“Jealousy’s a hell of a motive,” I mutter.
“And if she made that…” River shakes her head. “That’s a violation on another level.”
I sit back, trying to breathe through the rage rolling in waves down my spine. I want to go full blackout. Kick down doors. Ransack Cathedral from the inside out.
But I can’t do that. Not yet.
We need a plan.
“We’ll trace the source,” I tell her. “Arrow’s already on it. We’ll pin the IP and follow the proxy trail.”
“I can help,” River says, suddenly fierce. “I want to help.”
I nod. “Good. We’ll loop you in.”
Silence stretches for a beat.
Then River stands and walks to the kitchen. Opens the fridge. Pulls out a yogurt. Stares at it like she’s forgotten what food is for.
“You’re falling for her,” Arrow told me last night.
No shit.
I get up and walk to where she stands, reaching around her for two spoons.
“You’re gonna share that, right?” I ask.
She arches a brow, then sighs. “You’re impossible.”
I grin. “So are you.”
We eat silently, standing at the counter. A weird kind of domestic rhythm slipping into place. Her elbow nudges mine every few bites. She steals my spoon. I pretend to be outraged.
And even with everything going on—Cathedral, Regent, Tasha, Helena—I feel calm.
Because she’s here.
Because she trusts me.
Because some part of her still looks at me like I’m more than just a man with a keyboard and a mask.
When we finish, she turns to me and says, “What do we do now?”
I take her empty cup, toss it in the bin, and meet her gaze.
“Now we fight back.”
I should leave.
I should head home. File reports. Sync with Arrow. Anything but stand here in the low light of Riverside, watching River run a hand through that waterfall of blue hair.
But I don’t move.
Because I can’t.
Not when she turns toward me, eyes soft but stormy, like she’s trying to be strong even when everything inside her is spinning out.
I inch closer before either of us says a word. She looks up, chest rising, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“I hate that you saw it,” she whispers.
“Saw what?” I ask her, even though I know she’s talking about the video.
“That video. It looked so real, but so… not. I don’t know. It’s like we were together but not. Does that make sense?”
My heart pounds in my chest. “I know what you mean.” The video didn’t look like two people making love, it didn’t even resemble two people who liked each other. It was the worst version of AI one could get away with. “I hate that it exists,” I growl. “That someone thought they could use you like that. Violate you like that.”
Her lashes flutter. “But you still came back.”
I cup her jaw with one hand, my thumb brushing her cheek. “Of course I did.”
She tilts her head. “Why?”
The word lodges somewhere between her vulnerability and my undoing. I let out a breath, brushing my lips just beneath her ear.
“Because I’m already yours, River. I’ve been yours longer than you know.”
Her fingers fist the front of my shirt, and then she’s pulling me in, closing the space. Our mouths crash together, needy, open, hot. She tastes like heat and hurt and hope. I kiss her like I’m making up for every day I couldn’t, every night I watched her through a screen, every second I held back when all I wanted was to touch.
She moans into my mouth, and I swear it rips me open.
I lift her, hands gripping the backs of her thighs as she wraps around me. Her lips don’t stop. My back hits the wall and her hips roll against mine and it’s too much and not enough all at once.
“You feel everything, don’t you?” I murmur against her mouth.
“Only with you.”
God. That right there. That’s going to wreck me.
I carry her to the couch, our lips never breaking. I kiss every inch of her skin I can reach, reverent and greedy all at once. She’s fire under my palms, and when I slide my hand up her spine and she arches into me, it’s like watching the sun rise after years in shadow.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I breathe. “You don’t even know.”
She reaches for my belt, fingers trembling. “I want—”