9. Secrets in the Dark #3
"Someone from my past is going after my brother.
" The words come out abrupt. Jagged. Like he's ripping them out by the roots.
"Marcus Devereau. Corporate raider. He's buying shares in Collin's label, trying to force a hostile takeover.
That's where I was tonight. Meeting a contact who could give me intel on how to stop him. "
"You should have told me." The words come out softer than I intend. Without the anger I thought
I'd feel.
"I know." He runs his hand through his hair, destroying the careful styling.
Making him look younger. More vulnerable.
More real. "I know. I just—I'm not used to this.
To explaining myself. To having someone who actually—" He stops.
Starts again. "You're right. If you want a partner, I need to act like one.
I need to stop disappearing and expecting you to just trust me when I come back. "
I step closer. Close enough to see the exhaustion written in every line of his face. The fear he's trying so hard to hide and failing.
"I found evidence tonight," I say. "Before I left. That's why I went. Fawn Moreau is behind this.
Her and her fiancé, Julian Thorne. He wants my company. She wants revenge for Parsons. They're using her uncle's scandal as cover to destroy me while everyone's watching the wrong target."
Connor's expression hardens into something lethal. Something that makes me glad I'm on his side and not theirs. "Tell me everything."
So I do. The charity photo with Viktor Kozlov lurking in the background.
Fawn's tagged photos placing her in Paris this whole time.
Julian Thorne's acquisition pattern. The way it all fits together into one coordinated attack designed to look like scandal and bad luck when it's actually calculated destruction.
All of it spilling out while Connor listens with that focused intensity he brings to everything. Like I'm the only person in the world and every word I say matters.
When I finish, he's quiet for a long moment. I can practically hear him cataloging information. Building strategy. Planning their destruction.
"We're going to destroy them," he says finally. Certain. Cold. Absolute. "All of them. Fawn.
Thorne. Moreau. Everyone who thought they could use you as collateral damage. But tomorrow.
Tonight…" His voice roughens. Cracks slightly. "Tonight I just need to know you're safe."
"I'm safe."
"You're reckless."
"I'm desperate." The truth slips out before I can stop it. Raw and honest and more vulnerable than I intended. "I'm desperate and scared and I don't know who to trust anymore. And the one person I want to trust keeps disappearing without explanation and I don't…I can't…"
My voice breaks. I hate that it breaks, showing weakness and needing anyone this badly.
Connor reaches out. His fingers ghost along my jaw with a tenderness that steals whatever breath I have left. "I'm here now."
"For how long?"
The question hangs between us. Heavy with everything we're not saying. Everything we can't afford to say.
His thumb traces my cheekbone. "As long as you'll let me be."
For one perfect, terrible second, I let myself lean into his touch. Let myself believe that maybe this thing between us, this pull that feels magnetic and inevitable and completely insane, might be something real. Something that could survive the wreckage of everything else.
Then reality crashes back in. The surveillance photos. The threats. The fact that we're standing in the hallway of a hotel where someone broke into my room and spray-painted warnings on my wall.
The fact that getting close to Connor Grey might be the most dangerous thing I've done yet.
I step back. His hand falls away. The loss of contact feels physical.
"Goodnight, Connor."
His jaw tightens. His hand clenches once at his side. "Goodnight, Rachel."
I slip inside my suite and close the door. Press my back against it and listen to his footsteps retreat to the living room where he's been sleeping on the sofa since the break-in. Close but not close enough. Protecting me but keeping his distance.
My phone buzzes one last time.
The photo from the bar. Us standing too close.
His body angled toward mine. My face tilted up to his like I'm waiting for him to kiss me.
The way we're looking at each other like we're the only two people in the room.
Like nothing else exists but this moment and this feeling and this impossible thing happening between us.
The caption: Tomorrow's headline: Fashion Designer's New Romance—Scandal or Strategy?
I stare at the photo. At the undeniable chemistry crackling between us. At the way Connor's looking at me like I'm something precious he's trying desperately not to break.
And I realize with brutal, aching clarity that whoever's doing this knows exactly where to aim.
They're not just threatening my career. They're not just trying to destroy my reputation or steal my company.
They're threatening the one thing I didn't even know I wanted until it was too late.
Him.