14. Shadow Games #2
She responds. Meets me touch for touch. Her hands claim me the way mine claim her. Deliberate, fierce, holding nothing back.
When I finally slide inside her, her eyes flutter closed.
"Look at me," I say. Rough. Wrecked.
She does.
And I realize with brutal clarity: I'm in love with her.
The thought should terrify me. Should send me running.
Instead, I move. Slow and deep. Watching her face. The way her breath catches. The way she says my name like a prayer.
I want to give her everything.
Want to be her everything.
Want this moment to last forever because I know—God, I know—nothing this perfect can survive the real world.
But right now, with Rachel in my arms and the afternoon light painting gold across her skin, I let myself believe.
Just for a moment.
That maybe I can have this.
Have her.
That maybe I'm not the man who destroys everything he touches.
"Connor." She pulls me down. Kisses me deep. "I'm close."
"Let go," I whisper against her mouth. "I've got you."
She does.
And I follow her over the edge, her name a broken sound on my lips.
After, we lie tangled together. Her head on my chest. My hand tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder.
The guilt creeps back in.
I should tell her.
About Marc. About the surveillance contract I signed three weeks before Paris. About the fact that I've been watching her since before we even met.
The words form. Sit on my tongue. Wait.
But her trust is so complete right now. So absolute.
She's looking at me like I'm the best decision she's ever made.
And I'm not ready to break it.
Not yet. Not tonight.
I'll tell her. Soon. After the press conference. After we've won.
When the crisis is over and we can face it together.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Rachel stirs but doesn't wake. I ease out of bed carefully. Check the screen.
Three-forty-seven PM.
Unknown number. Video file attached. No message.
Every instinct screams danger.
I open it.
The screen fills with grainy footage. A street market. Vendors selling fruit and flowers and handmade crafts.
And there, center frame, are Rachel's parents.
My blood turns to ice.
I recognize the location immediately. Hanoi market, two blocks from their apartment. The same street from the security briefing I ran two weeks ago when I first started tracking potential vulnerabilities.
Dragon fruit vendor on the left. Silk scarf stall on the right.
Rachel's mother laughs as she examines silk scarves.
Her father haggles over dragon fruit, hand gentle on his wife's back.
The camera work is professional. Steady. Patient. Military-grade surveillance.
The timestamp reads two hours ago.
The footage cuts to black.
White text appears: Beautiful family. It would be a shame if something happened to them.
"Connor?"
I turn. Rachel's awake, sitting up in bed, sheet pulled to her chest.
She sees my face. Goes pale.
"What's wrong?"
I cross to her. Hand her the phone.
Watch her world shatter.
The color drains from her face as she watches. Her mother's smile. Her father's gentle touch. Two people who sacrificed everything so their daughter could chase her dreams.
The phone slips from her fingers.
I catch it before it hits the floor. Reflex.
"They're threatening my parents." Her voice sounds distant. Hollow. "They're in Vietnam. Halfway across the world. And someone is watching them."
I'm already dialing. Phone to my ear. Barking orders in rapid French to the security team I keep in Southeast Asia for exactly this scenario.
Extraction protocols. Safe house coordinates. Private transport standing by.
But Rachel's not hearing me.
She's still seeing her mother's laugh. Carefree. Unaware that her daughter's choices have put her in danger.
I end the call. Frame her face with my hands, forcing her to look at me.
"Listen to me. I will keep them safe. Do you understand? I will move heaven and earth to protect your family."
"How?" Tears blur her vision. "How can you protect them when you can't even protect me?"
The words land like a physical blow.
I flinch. But I don't let go.
This is my worst fear confirmed. I'm failing her.
But my promise isn't empty bravado. I'm already running calculations. Marc's network in Vietnam. Extraction protocols. Safe house locations in Bangkok, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur. "I will find a way," I say fiercely. "I promise you, Rachel. I will find a way."
Her phone buzzes.
Another message. Same distorted sender.
Cancel the press conference. Disappear. Or they pay the price.
I read it over her shoulder. My entire body goes rigid.
"They're bluffing," I say.
"You don't know that."
"They want you scared. They want you to run."
"Maybe I should." Her voice cracks. "Maybe I should just give them what they want! Step down. Sell the company. Go back to New York and pretend none of this ever happened. At least then my parents would be safe."
"Rachel..."
"Maybe I should just give them what they want!" She's breaking. I can see it happening. "At least then I'd still have people to love!"
I pull her against my chest. Arms locked around her.
"I won't let that happen," I say into her hair. "I swear to God, Rachel. I won't let them hurt your family."
She wants to believe me.
But I can feel her trembling. Can feel the fear radiating off her in waves.
My phone rings.
Marc.
I answer without letting Rachel go.
"Talk to me."
His voice cuts through. Urgent. Clipped.
"Fawn Moreau just boarded a private jet to Hanoi. Wheels up eight minutes ago."
My entire world narrows to a single point.
"When does she land?"
"Fourteen hours. Maybe less with tail winds."
I pull Rachel tighter against me. Feel her heartbeat against my chest. Too fast, too hard.
Fourteen hours.
Fawn's not bluffing. She's not threatening.
She's already moving.
"Get eyes on Rachel's parents now," I tell Marc. "I want a team on them before Fawn's plane clears Vietnamese airspace. And Marc? If anyone gets within fifty feet of them, I want to know their blood type and their mother's maiden name."
"Already on it." I end the call.
Look down at Rachel. Her face is pressed against my chest. Tears soaking through my shirt.
And I realize with cold, brutal clarity: this isn't about winning anymore.
This is about survival.
And I will burn the entire world down before I let them touch her family.
"Pack a bag," I say quietly. "We're going to Hanoi."
She looks up. Eyes red but fierce.
"Now?"
"Now."
Because Fawn Moreau just made the biggest mistake of her life.
She threatened the family of the woman I love.
And she's about to learn exactly what that costs.