Chapter 40 | Anna #2
I woke up alone. Which was fairly normal these days. Perhaps he’d stayed up the rest of the night catching up with Ulrich. Or he liked being awake all the time. I honestly didn’t know.
When I rolled over and looked at the clock, I sat up straight. It was mid-afternoon! I never slept that long.
I tumbled out of bed, flung open the bedroom door, and headed down the short hallway—
—and stopped dead.
Kincade. Ulrich. And a man I didn’t recognize.
I took in the scene in a single, mortifying glance and became acutely aware that I was standing there in sleep shorts and a tank top.
I froze.
They gaped.
The new guy smirked and said, “Well, hello, pretty.”
Oh, fuck. This wasn’t going to go well. I looked at Kincade, who only lifted a brow at the man’s flirty remark.
“I—uh,” I said, already backing away. “I should get dressed.”
I fled back to the bedroom and shut the door behind me.
What in the hell was going on out there? Was he seriously entertaining guests while I snoozed the day away?
I leaned my head against the door and counted to five to calm my nerves.
Sleep shorts. Tank. Two men I didn’t know.
Fantastic.
Talk about first impressions.
My face burned as I crossed the room and jerked open the duffel, rifling through my limited belongings. It wasn’t like I had a lot of choices here. I pulled on black cargos and a long-sleeved shirt over the tank, stuck my feet in boots and quickly tied them.
One glance in the mirror as I passed the dresser. Crap. I didn’t even own a brush. But I did have a hair tie. I ran my fingers through tangled hair and then pulled it up into a high ponytail. Signature Anna.
Then, taking a deep breath, I stood there and reminded myself where I was. This was no longer isolated Istanbul or the cabin in God-knows-where. This was Quiet Watch territory, and I was getting a baptism-by-fire introduction to it.
Fine. If this was how it worked—strange men appearing while I slept, meetings happening without me—then I needed to establish my place here. Make it clear I wasn’t Kincade’s plus-one.
I decided to walk back out there as casually as possible and pretend everything was fine.
Sure.
So, I did. And the moment I stepped into the hallway, the new guy eyed me.
“Oh, she’s back,” he said. “Hm. I liked her better the other way.”
This guy looked like trouble with a capital T.
A man who knew he was good-looking and wasn’t afraid to go after whatever flavor of the month he wanted.
Broad-shouldered, relaxed, sitting there like he had nowhere else to be.
Dark hair curling at the edge of his collar.
All confidence and sharp edges. Eyes black as coal.
Kincade glared at him like he had death rays coming out of his eyes.
This was going to be a problem.
Before he could speak, I did. “Put your eyes back in your head.”
He laughed. Kincade looked pleased.
“Why? When you’re so lovely to look at,” he persisted.
“You clearly have a death wish,” I said flatly.
I marched past them into the kitchen looking for something to take the edge off. There was a single-cup coffee maker—hallelujah. I busied myself with that.
“I think we’re done here,” Kincade said. And I knew that tone. He’d used it on me plenty of times. He was well and truly done.
“But—” the new guy said.
“Lud, don’t push it,” Ulrich said.
“I like pushing it.”
I snuck a glance. New guy was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest grinning like a lunatic.
And Kincade, well, he looked like he was ready to rip his face off.
His hand fisted on top of the table. And that’s when I noticed the folder was open and the contents spread out everywhere.
The three of them had been strategizing.
While I slept.
My lips flattened into a thin line as I picked up the full mug and stepped back into their line of sight. I’d forgotten creamer, but I didn’t care at this point.
“So, what did I miss?” I asked, looking pointedly at the blueprints.
Before Kincade could answer, the new guy said, “I bet he was letting you get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it.”
Good lord. This guy. He was still smiling. I lifted a brow. Why was Kincade sitting there letting him hit on me? Did he want to see how far he’d go?
“They just got here,” Kincade said, his tone flat.
Ah. So, he’d let me sleep instead of waking me up for this.
I could respect that.
“Who the fuck is this guy?” I asked.
Kincade didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes on the guy across from him. Ulrich looked uncomfortable.
“Ludwig,” he said. “And you’re done.”
Ludwig laughed like that was a joke. Like this was banter.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m appreciating the scenery.”
The air changed. Kincade leaned forward, palms flat on the table. Slow. Deliberate.
“You’re not,” he said calmly.
Ludwig’s grin widened. “Is that jealousy I hear?”
Oh.
Bad move.
Kincade straightened. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet enough that the room leaned toward it.
“You’re confusing tolerance with permission.”
Ludwig tilted his head, still smiling—but his dark eyes had sharpened now. Calculating.
“And you’re confusing interest with ownership,” he shot back, eyes fixed on Kincade. “She doesn’t strike me as a woman who would tolerate either.”
Uh oh.
Kincade gave me a quick assessing glance, then turned back to Ludwig.
“She doesn’t need handling,” he said. “She needs respect.”
Ulrich cleared his throat. “Ludwig—”
“No,” Ludwig said, holding up a hand. “I’m enjoying this.” He leaned back in his chair, lazy, provocative. “So, tell me. What happens if I don’t?”
Kincade didn’t raise his voice. “Then you leave.”
Ludwig chuckled. “And if I don’t feel like leaving?”
Kincade smiled. It wasn’t warm. “I think you know the answer to that. I can find someone else.”
Silence. The kind that wasn’t empty—final. Ludwig studied him for a long beat. The smile on his face didn’t disappear.
But it changed.
“Noted,” he said at last.
I took a sip of my coffee. Bitter. Perfect.
“Great,” I said. “Now that the testosterone summit is adjourned, are we going to move along with the planning session?”
Kincade’s mouth twitched.
Ulrich winced.
And Ludwig—
Ludwig laughed.
“Oh,” he said, eyes gleaming as he looked at me. “I like her.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can it, Charming.”
Kincade smirked.
After that, things settled into something resembling professionalism.
Ludwig pushed the blueprints toward me, turning serious. “Since you’re part of this mess, you should know what we’re walking into.”
I pulled up a chair.
As I leaned over the table, Ludwig’s gaze landed on my hair.
“You know,” he said casually, “that color is going to get you remembered.”
The words settled deep. Something I’d already been thinking about. White hair. Bright. Unmistakable.
I nodded once, turned my attention back to the blueprints. But the decision was made. This wasn’t the place to stand out.
We talked about Munich. About the headquarters we were planning to hit and the systems we needed down before anyone noticed they were gone. Ulrich laid out access points and contingencies. Ludwig—mercifully—kept his commentary technical and to the point.
Kincade filled in the gaps. Where things could fail. Where they usually did.
And where I fit.
We mapped timelines, escape routes, redundancies. What we could risk. What we couldn’t. What we’d burn if it came to that.
By the time the coffee was gone and the light outside the windows had shifted, the plan was no longer theoretical. It had edges now. Weight. Consequences.
We weren’t ready. But we were closer.