Chapter 9 Mateo
MATEO
"Check the voltage on that sensor again," I tell the tech as I scroll through the security system's API on my tablet. "Seems like it's drawing more power than it should."
The guy, Todd? Tom? Something with a T, nods and kneels back down to examine the wiring in the main hallway.
We've been at this for hours, installing the upgraded security system I designed specifically for Jade's house.
Until now we'd managed with the existing system, but it needed improvement.
State-of-the-art motion sensors with thermal recognition, biometric access points, and surveillance cameras with AI-assisted monitoring.
The kind of setup that makes security nerds like me giddy and celebrities feel safe.
Well, safer.
It's been two days since the whole mother drama, and the vibe in the house has been.
.. weird. Ethan's been distracted, Declan more brooding than usual (if that's even possible), and Jade has been holed up in her studio for hours at a time.
The tension is driving me nuts. I prefer things direct, open.
This silent, heavy atmosphere is suffocating.
That's why I volunteered to oversee the security installation today.
At least it gives me something concrete to focus on, something I'm genuinely good at.
Before Cross Security, I spent two years in cyber divisions.
Hacking, counter-hacking, digital fortresses, that's my playground.
Give me a system to secure or breach, and I'm a happy man.
"Hey, Matthews, can you double-check the server rack in the utility room?" I call to another technician. "Make sure it's syncing properly with the cloud backup."
"On it," Matthews responds, disappearing down the hall.
I turn back to my tablet, making final adjustments to the security protocols.
The system I've designed is a beautiful beast. Comprehensive but user-friendly.
It'll send alerts to all three of us simultaneously if any perimeter is breached, with escalating response protocols depending on the threat level.
Some people think security is just about muscle and guns, but in this century, it's as much about firewalls as physical walls.
A stalker doesn't need to break a window when they can hack your smart home system, access your cameras, track your location through social media.
Digital footprints often reveal more than physical ones.
I'm so wrapped up in fine-tuning the facial recognition settings that I don't notice her until she's right there, silent as a shadow, three feet away.
"Shit!" I flinch, nearly launching my tablet into orbit. "You move like a damn ninja."
Jade lifts a brow. "Excuse me?"
"Senorita Sigilosa," I say, recovering with a grin. "Miss Stealthy. You've got serious silent-cat energy."
She crosses her arms, the corner of her mouth twitching. "And you've got serious golden retriever energy. Bouncy. Loud."
I press a hand to my chest, mock-offended. "Wounded. Right in the heart."
"For the record," she says, stepping past me, "I prefer cats."
"And here I was thinking we were making progress," I murmur, watching her with a smile.
She looks different today, more relaxed somehow. Her copper hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she's wearing simple jeans and an oversized sweater, so unlike the polished, untouchable image she usually projects. Even her face seems softer, more open.
"How's the security upgrade going?" she asks, glancing around at the equipment and tools scattered through the hallway.
"Almost done," I assure her, waving my tablet. "By tonight, this place will be Fort Knox with better Wi-Fi. I've added some custom protocols that should..."
"I don't need the technical details," she interrupts, though not unkindly. "Just tell me it'll work."
"It'll work," I promise. "No one gets in or out without us knowing."
She nods, seemingly satisfied. There's an awkward pause as she shifts her weight, like she wants to say something else but isn't sure how to begin.
"Listen," I say, seizing the moment. "I've been meaning to apologize properly. For what you overheard that first day. I was out of line, making assumptions about you based on... well, not much at all."
She studies me for a long moment, her green eyes unreadable. "You're not the first person to think the worst of me based on tabloid nonsense. Probably won't be the last."
"Still," I press. "It wasn't cool. I like to think I'm better than that."
"No, it wasn't cool," she agrees, but her tone has softened. "Apology accepted."
I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I hadn't realized how much it had been bothering me, that rocky first impression.
I pride myself on reading people well, on understanding them quickly.
But I'd gotten Jade all wrong from the start, and that mistake has been nagging at me more than I'd care to admit.
"So we're good?" I ask, offering my most charming smile.
The corner of her mouth twitches upward. "Let's say we're better."
Progress. I'll take it.
"Your Spanish is pretty good, by the way," she comments, surprising me with the change of subject. "Where did you learn it?"
"Cuba," I explain. "Grew up speaking it at home with my mom. Curious about me, are you?"
She shrugs. "If three strange men are going to live in my house, I think I'm entitled to know something about them."
"Fair enough. Though I prefer 'intriguing' to 'strange.'"
She laughs, light and unguarded, like the sound slipped out before she could catch it. It punches a grin right out of me. I want to hear it again. Which is... not great.
For a split second, I see beyond the Ice Queen, beyond the model, to the woman underneath all those carefully constructed layers.
"Hey, excuse me?" One of the technicians, the T-name guy, approaches, interrupting the moment. He's young, maybe mid-twenties, with an eager expression that immediately puts me on alert. "Sorry to interrupt, but aren't you Jade?"
Her eyes flicker, just for a second, then the wall slams down. Cool, unreadable, untouchable. Jade's posture shifts instantly, the openness vanishing, replaced by the cool, professional mask I've come to recognize. "Yes," she acknowledges simply.
"I thought so!" The guy beams, seemingly oblivious to her change in demeanor. "My girlfriend loves your work. She has that perfume ad you did on her vision board. Would it be okay if I got a quick selfie with you? She'd absolutely flip."
I wince internally. Bad timing, bad approach. Anyone who's spent more than five minutes around celebrities knows there's a protocol to this kind of thing. You don't just walk up and ask for photos, especially not when they're in their own home.
"No," Jade says, her voice returning to that flat, cold tone I heard the first day. I see it happen in real time. The warmth drains from her face. Her shoulders stiffen. Her entire posture shifts like a drawbridge slamming shut.
"I don't do selfies or autographs."
The tech's eager smile falters. "Oh... sorry, I just thought..."
"You thought wrong," she cuts him off, then turns to me. "Let me know when they're finished. I'll be in my studio."
Without another word, she walks away, her back straight, her steps measured and deliberate.
The tech stares after her, his face flushed with embarrassment and something else. Anger, maybe, or resentment. "Wow," he mutters. "They weren't kidding about the Ice Queen thing."
I should let it go. It's none of my business how Jade handles her fans or her image. The guy was out of line, even if he didn't realize it. But something in his tone ignites a spark in me.
"Back to work," I tell him, keeping my voice neutral. "We've got three more sensors to install before lunch."
He doesn't move, still staring down the now-empty hallway. "Cold bitch," he mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear.
The words hit like a slap. My ears go hot. My hands curl into fists without thinking. Something protective flares in my chest. Before I can think better of it, I step into his space, close enough that he has to look up to meet my eyes.
"That's enough," I say, my voice deadly quiet. "You're here to do a job, not to harass my client. Finish the installation, keep your opinions to yourself, and maybe think twice before approaching someone in their private home and demanding photos."
His eyes widen in surprise. "Whoa, I didn't mean..."
"I don't care what you meant," I cut him off. "You know what? Pack up your tools. You're done for the day. I'll have Matthews finish your stations."
"You're kicking me off the job?" Now he looks genuinely alarmed. "Come on, man, it was just a comment."
"Wrong comment, wrong time, wrong person," I say, not backing down. "Out. Now."
He stares at me for a moment, like he's considering arguing further, then thinks better of it. Muttering under his breath, he gathers his tools and heads for the door.
I watch him go, my heart still pounding with an anger that caught me completely off guard. What the hell was that about? Since when do I fly off the handle defending a client's honor?
Matthews appears from the utility room, looking confused. "Did Terry leave?"
Terry. That was his name.
"Yeah," I reply, already regretting my outburst. "He had to go. You'll need to finish his stations."
"Everything okay?"
"Fine," I say shortly. "Let's just get this done."
But as we return to work, I can't shake the strange feeling in my chest. The way Jade's laugh had caught me off guard.
The swift, protective rage I'd felt when that tech insulted her.
The fact that despite our rocky start, I'm beginning to.
.. what? Care about her opinion of me? Want to see that rare smile again?
Dios mío. This is exactly the kind of complication we don't need on this job. Ethan's been acting weird, Declan's the same especially after the self-defense session. And now I'm throwing technicians out for saying things I might have thought myself a week ago.
What is it about Jade Sinclair that's getting under all our skins? Is it the mystery? The vulnerability beneath that icy exterior? Or simply the forced proximity, making us all a little crazy?
I don't have answers, just a growing sense that this assignment is veering into dangerous territory. Professional lines blurring, emotions getting involved. The exact things that can compromise judgment, create blind spots, get people hurt.
"Fuck my life," I mutter, turning back to my tablet. "Couldn't we have just gotten a nice, simple billionaire to protect?"