Chapter Two
Kayne Serruto racked the weight bar and sat up, dragging air into his lungs, sweat sliding between his shoulder blades.
Morning rush at the CObrA Securities gym always came with its own flavor of chaos.
Agents moved in a synchronized stampede, bass pounding through the floor and news headlines flashing across silent screens.
It was noise, motion, and order disguised as madness.
It grounded him and reminded him of who he was. What he was built for.
It should’ve been just another workout, except the universe decided to sucker-punch him with a commercial, of all things.
He wasn’t even watching. Not really. Just letting his pulse settle. Then, movement. A flicker of blonde on the screen above him. He looked up, and the world narrowed to a single point of light.
There she was.
Long hair cascading over her shoulders in shiny waves, abs etched as if some divine sculptor hadn’t known when to stop.
She bent, grabbed the weight bar as if she were disciplining it, and executed a Romanian deadlift so clean and smooth it triggered muscle memory in his own body.
Dante Costa would’ve whistled. Kayne didn’t whistle. He just forgot how to breathe.
Mon Dieu, who was this woman?
Her form? Flawless. Her muscles? Tightening and releasing in a rhythm so intoxicating he felt heat climb the back of his neck. And when she turned to the camera and smiled warmly and confidently, it punched straight through his ribs, leaving something raw and electric in its wake.
He blinked hard, hoping the universe might have mercy and give him a reset. No such luck. The ad rolled on, and now she was running on the beach, waves chasing her ankles. Suddenly, Kayne remembered the exact sensation of being underwater too long.
This was ridiculous. He didn’t get hit by commercials. He didn’t get hit, period. Attraction, sure. Interest, absolutely. But this? This was a blindside.
He needed a night out. Something easy and uncomplicated, that didn’t come with a smile capable of ending civilizations. And he absolutely did not need an insanely gorgeous fitness queen who could probably bench-press him if properly motivated.
Unfortunately, the commercial hadn’t finished its emotional assassination.
“Holy hell,” Jalen Ellis said loud enough to turn a few heads. “Who is that?” He pointed at the screen as if he were a kid discovering candy for the first time. “Tell me she’s real. Tell me she needs a bodyguard. Or a husband. I’m flexible.”
Kayne’s jaw locked so hard something in his temple twitched.
Jalen kept going, because of course he did. “Damn, look at the definition on her. And the smile? I’d let her ruin my credit score. No hesitation.”
Kayne’s brain supplied a perfectly rational reaction: Punch him.
Hard.
Once.
For science.
But he didn’t move, breathe, or even blink. He sat there as if he were a man listening to another man compliment his wife.
Except she wasn’t his wife. Wasn’t his anything, not even someone he’d met, for Christ’s sake.
Still, the word mine flared through him with all the grace of a bomb going off.
“Jalen,” Kayne said, voice low enough to be dangerous, “stop talking.”
Jalen froze mid-appreciative whistle. “Whoa, easy, Sergeant Alpha. Didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“She’s not.” The answer came too fast. “I’ve never seen her before.”
Jalen studied him, eyes narrowing as if he’d just discovered something very interesting. “Huh. That’s fascinating.”
“It’s nothing,” Kayne snapped.
“Yeah,” Jalen drawled, grinning like a man who absolutely knew it was something. “Totally nothing. You’re vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear, but sure. Nothing.”
Kayne didn’t trust himself to reply because the commercial finally ended. The gym lights were too bright, and the music was too loud. The world around him was too normal for what had just detonated inside his chest.
“Hey, Serruto, the bosses want to see you,” Dante Costa shouted across the gym. Dante, a fellow Navy SEAL, oversaw agent training and was one of the original CObrA Securities employees. He was up there among the elite on the totem pole. “They want to see you in their offices. Pronto.”
“Oooh, now someone’s in trouble,” Jalen singsonged.
“Yeah, Serruto, what did you do?” Kylie St. Clair wondered as she curled dumbbells. “I need to know so I don’t do it.” Kylie was one of the latest hires, and from what Kayne knew of her, she was a beast.
Normally, Kayne would’ve volleyed back effortlessly, but the commercial had left something unsettled in him, and his pulse hadn’t fully recalibrated.
He swaggered anyway. Survival mechanism. “They probably just want to thank me for existing.”
But even as he strolled to the locker room, his heartbeat was still thumping with an annoying, unfamiliar rhythm. The blonde. Her perfect smile. Those impossibly blue eyes. The way she moved.
He needed to get it together.
He shook it off, showered, and ran his fingers through hair that desperately needed cutting. The face in the mirror stared back at him with steady green eyes and zero indication he’d just been gut-punched by an advertisement. Good. He could work with that.
Once dressed, Kayne jogged to the headquarters building located inside the CObrA Securities complex. By the time he reached the conference room, he was steady, calm, and focused. Ish.
Luke Colton and Logan Bradley waited inside. He greeted them.
“We’ve got a new assignment,” Logan said. “We want you to take the lead.”
Kayne’s heart kicked. His first lead. Hell yes. “Great. I’m ready.”
Luke slid a folder over. “Everything’s in the dossier. We’re not sure there’s a case yet. The client, Leonardo De Luca, is worried about his sister. There have been a couple of incidents that might mean nothing or might not. He refuses to ignore them.”
“Head over there and get eyes on the situation,” Logan told him. “If you agree there’s a threat, we’ll send more agents.”
“Got it.”
“Look it over and let us know if you need anything else,” Luke added.
Kayne picked up the file. “Will do.”
“The drive to St. Louis is a little under four hours,” Logan said. “Load your Escalade with whatever supplies you think you’ll need.”
“Stop by Bebe’s office,” Luke called out as Kayne left. “She’ll have accommodations lined up.”
#
After visiting BeBe Hale, the woman who kept CObrA Securities running like a well-oiled machine, Kayne went to his office to read the file. It seemed straightforward, though there wasn’t much to go on.
With assistance from BeBe’s husband, Tank, who was in charge of supplies, he loaded up his SUV with anything he might need before heading to his apartment to pack a bag.
A few hours later, as he drove into St. Louis, his focus was on the dossier and the mission. That lingering spark from the commercial? He’d burned it out by force.
When he spotted the Gateway Arch in the distance, he called Leonardo De Luca and introduced himself.
De Luca gave him directions to a fitness club in the suburb of Clayton, west of St. Louis.
Along the way, he passed Forest Park, where the St. Louis Zoo was located, rolled into the neighborhood, and then found the place.
Kayne parked and walked up to the building, which was undergoing massive renovations, judging by the scaffolding and the number of work vehicles with a construction company’s name on the sides.
The building itself was sleek and glass-heavy, overlooking a pond and a tree-lined patch behind it. There was no signage yet.
Whining saws and thudding hammers greeted Kayne as he stepped inside.
He removed his sunglasses and tucked the earpiece into the collar of his shirt.
Sawdust drifted through sunlight like glitter from hell, and a radio played classic rock somewhere in the belly of the building.
It looked as if the entire interior was being gutted.
The first room on the right held a sandy-blond man finishing a phone call. Kayne waited until he hung up.
“Mr. De Luca?”
The man stood. “Call me Leo. You must be Kayne Serruto.”
Kayne shook his outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you. There used to be an outstanding major league baseball player with the same name.”
“Outstanding might be generous, but yeah, that was me.”
“I was at the game where you hit the walk-off grand slam to win the league title.”
Leo smiled, warm and faintly wistful. “One of the best days of my life.”
Kayne nodded at his knee. “How’s it holding up?”
“All healed, though it was sketchy at the time.”
Kayne remembered reading about the injury that took out the reigning World Series MVP. Leo had been a third baseman attempting to turn a double play when the runner roll-blocked into him in an illegal move that destroyed De Luca’s knee and his playing career.
“Reed Steele is married to a colleague of mine,” Kayne said. Reed had been a teammate of Leo’s and also had his MLB career cut short by a knee injury. He’d transitioned to hosting a home renovation show, where he’d met Hillary Billings and fallen in love. The rest, as they say, was history.
“That’s why I called your company. I’ve kept in touch with him and met your bosses at Reed’s wedding. They made an impression.”
“You’re a lawyer now?”
“I have a law degree, yes. But I’m technically a sports agent.”
Kayne glanced over his shoulder. “You’re undergoing a serious overhaul.”
Leo sighed. “My sister’s latest obsession.”
“She’s the reason I’m here?”
Leo picked his phone up from the desk. “Let’s grab a coffee. I don’t want to talk here.”
Kayne followed him to a black Range Rover and slid inside, appreciating the semi-aniline leather. Being a sports agent paid well, not to mention that guaranteed MLB contract.
Leo drove them to a coffee shop and smoothie bar near Washington University. It teemed with college students, making it easier to blend in and talk without being overheard.