Chapter 19 #2
“What’s the catch?” I asked.
Remy’s jaw flexed. “They want a long-term contract. Five years.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Marco—”
“No.” I slid the folder back across the desk. “I don’t get into bed with people I can’t control.”
Remy sighed. “They’re going to take this deal to someone else if we don’t.”
“Good.”
“Max wants to consider it.”
“Of course he does,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. “Max loves long-term leverage.”
“This is good business, Grey.”
“This is a liability,” I countered.
“That’s why we need you handling it. You’re the only one who can pull this off.”
“Let me think about it.”
Remy watched me for a moment and then stood. “Marco,” he began. “Come by for a drink sometime. Maybe we can chat about everything else.”
I looked at him. “No. You can go now.”
He left hesitantly, and I stared at the file. It would be a stupid choice to make, but still, I couldn’t help but find it tempting. It had been a while since I’d felt a risk. Since I’d felt that adrenaline. I used to get it in the field. I was drawn to it.
Pretty sure that was what had made me feel drawn to Valentina too. The risk. The reckless feeling of pushing boundaries I knew I shouldn’t cross. The kind that left me replaying the moment in my head even though I knew better.
God, I’d kissed her. Actually kissed her.
Pressed her into the bed, felt her breath hitch, felt the way her fingers had curled desperately into my shirt.
And I knew exactly where it would have gone—exactly how far I’d have let myself take it—if Max hadn’t interrupted us.
If my phone hadn’t rung. If reality hadn’t stepped in and forced me to regain control.
But he did, and it had. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling.
I should’ve regretted it. Should’ve been thankful Max had called when he did, before I made an even bigger mess of things.
But regret wasn’t what I felt at all.
Instead I felt restless.
I still had the itch that only her nails digging into my back could scratch.
I shouldn’t have gone that far with her. I knew it. Knew it the second she tugged at my tie; the moment her lips parted beneath mine. Knew it when I had her pinned underneath me, breathless and smirking, daring me to keep going. Daring me to lose control completely.
But I’d done it anyway.
And now, of course, I couldn’t get her out of my head.
As if Max could sense I was thinking about that damn woman again, my phone buzzed. A text flashed across the screen.
Max
Come to my office.
Probably about whatever Remy had just told me—Sebastian, Valentina, marriage—another mess I didn’t want to handle but knew I would anyway. I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, sighing heavily as I got up from my desk.
I shouldn’t have kissed her. Shouldn’t have let myself even start down that road. But I had. And now she was tangled in every thought, every decision.
This wasn’t going to end well.
When I walked into Max’s office, he looked up from his desk and tilted his head to the chair in front of him. I took a seat and told him, “The Castillo deal is rushed. If we’re folding in another pipeline, I want a cleaner paper trail. It’s too easy to trace it back to us.”
He flipped through the file. “You’re hesitant?” he asked. “Remy thinks it’s worth the risk. The Castillo Group moves heavy weight. If we lock this down, we control the flow. We dictate the margins.”
“We also open ourselves up to an SEC investigation. If they get even a whisper of Castillo’s money laundering, we’re going to be the first name on their subpoena list.”
Max studied me. “You usually like a challenge.”
I didn’t answer.
He was right. I did like challenges. Problems I could control, puzzles I could solve. It was the entire reason I’d thrived in intelligence, why I was good at the work I did now. The more complicated the better—it was the only thing that ever kept my attention.
But lately, challenges were starting to feel different.
They weren’t puzzles anymore, they were liabilities. Risks I couldn’t afford. Risks like Castillo. Risks like Sebastian. Risks like Valentina.
Especially Valentina.
I forced the thought aside and lifted my gaze back to Max. “I like challenges I can manage. Castillo’s a liability we can’t control.”
Max watched me quietly for another moment before finally nodding and leaning back in his chair. “Then manage it,” he said, like it was easy.
This was when I usually left. Got back to business. But instead I tapped my fingers against my knee and asked, “How are you going forward with Valentina?”
Max’s attention snapped to mine. “She’s pushing for her inheritance. Wants me to pick a husband so she can move on. How the hell am I supposed to do that when she rejects every name I put in front of her?”
I wanted to smile. Cleared my throat instead. “How many has she met?”
“Three.”
“Including Johnathan, the Fed?”
Max nodded. “Said they bore her. Next option is her last. I don’t have time for this. I tried being nice.”
“If you want compliance, you should have let her pick for herself.”
Max scoffed. “She did pick. She picked Cillian. Look how that turned out.”
I shifted in my chair. “Who’s left?”
Max rubbed his jaw. “The options are thinning. I need someone who can handle her. Someone who won’t fuck up the Castillo deal or open us up to scrutiny.”
“She’s reckless, but she’s not an idiot,” I muttered.
Max let out a humorless chuckle. He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “You got an opinion, Marco? Or are you just here to waste my time?”
Before I could stop myself—before logic kicked in or common sense reminded me exactly why this was a terrible idea—I heard myself say, “I’ll do it.”
Max blinked. “Come again?”
I met his gaze. “You want this handled? I’ll handle it.”
Max sat back, watching. “You volunteering for the job?”
I rolled my shoulders. “You need someone who can handle her. I’m already in this—legally, financially. This keeps it clean.”
Max tilted his head slightly as if he were trying to read between the lines.
What. The. Fuck?
What was I doing, offering myself up like this, volunteering to step deeper into the exact kind of mess I’d been trying to avoid for weeks? Maybe I hadn’t been avoiding her at all. Maybe I’d officially lost my fucking mind.
“Okay,” he said. “Have it your way. I’ll have something arranged at the courthouse.”
The idea sat with me. It burned in my chest. What the fuck was that about?
Acid reflux? Nerves? Heart palpitations?
Maybe Dr. Carter could take a look. She’d been hounding me about my last missed appointment anyway.
I could let her poke around, run a few tests, tell me nothing was actually wrong even though something clearly was.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw, forcing myself back to clarity.
I had things to wrap up here. I’d never meant to stay in New York this long. Never meant to let myself settle, get comfortable, find a routine. It was supposed to be temporary. In and out. But I’d lingered. Let things drag out. Let myself get tangled up in loose ends.
Valentina was one of them.
She wasn’t my responsibility, but she was a problem. A complication. A mess I’d helped create, even if she didn’t realize it.
Cillian had been a dead man walking, and I was the one to make the final call.
Didn’t regret it then, didn’t regret it now.
But Valentina—the way Max used her, controlled her, held her future hostage—she’d become collateral damage, an unintended consequence, and that bothered me more than I cared to admit.
It was guilt. Just guilt, nothing else. And once I’d cleaned this up—gotten her the money, her freedom, her independence—I could finally walk away. Back to DC. Back to my real life. Back to a world where Valentina and her disorder didn’t haunt my every decision.
That’s what I told myself anyway.
But deep down I wondered if I’d started believing my own lies.