Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 38307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
“You’re thinking,” I say.
“I’m assessing,” he replies.
“Same thing,” I mutter automatically, then catch myself. Not the time.
Sin sits up fully, running a hand over his face. He looks exhausted for half a second before the control slides back into place. “You’re not going alone,” he says.
Relief hits so hard I almost cry. I don’t. I blink it back. “I don’t want to leave you stranded,” I say quickly. “I know your brothers need you. I know you’re already stretched.”
His eyes lock on mine. “You’re not stranding me. You’re my mission.”
My chest tightens again, warm and painful. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he says. “But listen to me. If we do this, we do it my way.”
I nod immediately. “Yes.”
Sin’s gaze sharpens. “Don’t agree until you hear the rules.”
“I’ll still agree,” I admit.
His mouth tightens like he’s trying not to smile. “That’s a problem.”
“It’s a personality trait,” I counter.
He exhales once, like I’m wearing him down with sheer stubbornness. “Fine. We go. But this isn’t a confrontation. This is reconnaissance.”
I frown. “I want to talk to him.”
“You don’t,” he corrects. “Not yet.”
My frustration flares. “Sin.”
He holds up a hand. “Rule one. You don’t walk up to him. You don’t corner him. You don’t accuse him to his face in a public space. Not until we know where his loyalties sit in the moment.”
“But—”
“Rule two,” he continues, voice firm. “You don’t go anywhere alone. Not to the bathroom. Not to grab something from your desk. Not to ‘just check one thing.’ You stay in my line of sight.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
“Rule three. We keep this low profile. We get in, we look for anything useful, and we get out.”
My mind races. “How are we getting in unnoticed?”
Sin’s eyes narrow slightly, like he’s already planned the logistics. “We’re going to approach from the back entrance. Service access. Less traffic. I’ll cover. You’ll move.”
I stare at him. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I have,” he says. That sends a chill up my spine. He leans closer, gaze dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before snapping up to meet my eyes. “Rule four. If I say move, you move. No questions. No argument. If I say down, you get down. If I say run, you run. You trust me?”
I swallow. “I do trust you.”
His eyes flicker. “Good. Because this is the part where trust keeps you alive.”
I nod, heartbeat pounding.
Sin stands, already shifting into mode. He crosses the room, starts pulling on clothes with quick efficiency. Shirt. Pants. Belt. Holster. The sight of him gearing up does something to me. It’s a strange mix of fear and excitement.
This is real.
This is happening.
I throw the blanket back and get up too, suddenly hyper-aware I’m wearing his shirt and nothing else.
Sin’s gaze drags over me for half a second, dark and heated, then he looks away like he’s forcing himself to remember the mission.
I swallow, heat creeping into my cheeks.
“Get dressed,” he says, voice rougher than it should be.
“I was going to,” I mutter.
“Something you can run in,” he adds.
I nod and head for my bag, hands shaking slightly as I pull out jeans and sneakers. My mind is racing with images of Randy’s face, my office, the newsroom, the story draft I left behind. I want to walk in and slam the truth on his desk.
But Sin is right. If Randy is cornered, he’ll lash out. He’s not a cartoon villain. He’s a man under pressure who made a choice. Men like that do dangerous things when they’re exposed. I lace my shoes, take a breath, and look up at Sin. He’s watching me, expression unreadable, but his eyes are sharp and protective.
“You hate this,” I say quietly.
He doesn’t deny it. “Yes.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
Sin’s gaze holds mine, and for a moment the room feels too quiet. “Because you won’t stop,” he says.
I blink. “That’s not—”
“And because you’re right about one thing,” he cuts in.
I wait.
He steps closer, lowering his voice. “There might be something at your office that helps Cal’s team close this fast. Evidence. A file. A device. Something your boss kept close.”
My pulse kicks. “So you think it’s worth the risk?”
“I think you’re going to go whether I agree or not,” he says bluntly. “So I’d rather be the one controlling the risk.”
My chest warms. “That’s… kind of sweet in a terrifying way.”
“Don’t call it sweet,” he mutters.
I smile, quick and nervous. “Okay. Tactical protectiveness. Very manly.”
Sin’s mouth tightens. “You ready?”
I nod, then hesitate. “If we find something… do I get to talk to him?”
Sin studies me, then gives a single controlled nod. “If it’s safe. If we can do it without putting you in the crosshairs.”
Relief hits hard. “Thank you.”
Sin looks away like gratitude makes him uncomfortable. “Final rule,” he says, stepping toward the door. “If you get the urge to be brave, be smart instead.”