Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Two Years Later
“The landscaping cost me over a mil.” Titus Phillips waved at the expanse of his manicured backyard from the second-story balcony off the master suite. Clouds hung in the sky, confirming the heavy rain fall weather forecasters had predicted would arrive any minute.
Serena clutched her folder to her abdomen and peeked over the railing.
Her five-inch stilettos wobbled with the shift of her weight.
She sucked in her breath. Beautiful. Since entering the Lone Tree Estates mansion, in one of San Diego’s most prestigious neighborhoods, she’d had to contain her excitement.
There was nothing more unprofessional than a realtor doing backflips for a listing.
She needed this contract. If she landed Titus’s sale, and sold the property for a respectable price, she’d end up partner of Sunshine Coast Realty.
She stared out at the scene before her. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Titus’s stare and her skin tingled under the heat of his gaze.
A bite of unease threatened to crack her shiny veneer.
He was a dangerous man. She didn’t want to get on his bad side. This listing had to go as planned.
“It’s stunning,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Having this view off the master is a sensational perk. A lot of people will appreciate this privacy.” She tracked her gaze over the pool to the stone fountain and caught sight of a miniature house styled similarly to the main house.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the east side of the property.
“Ah, I’m glad you brought that up.” He stepped closer to her, following her line of vision.
The action was unnecessary given the unobstructed view.
The wind picked up and the edges of his jet-black hair that should have sported a sign of gray fluttered in the breeze.
“I have three rottweilers. That’s their house.
They’re usually in my house though. I have a room for them on the main floor, so I’ll need enough notice for showings to have one of my staff move them outside.
If someone comes unannounced, they’ll be sorry.
” He smirked, and she cringed at the thought of what three ferocious rottweilers could do to a person.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his white linen pants and gestured for her to precede him through the sliding door.
“There’s one more thing that would please anyone of my stature,” he said, moving through the bedroom.
She ignored his self-boasting comment and let her gaze drift over the marble bathroom with blue accented tile.
Her heels—he’d insisted she keep them on—clicked on the floor and then sunk into the lush carpet of the walk-in closet on the other side of the bathroom.
“This is not something I want in the listing.” He waved his hand in the air and turned to face her.
Walls of expensive shoes and impeccably pressed suits surrounded them.
“But when the right buyer is interested, it’s something we can .
. .” He swirled his finger as he searched for the word. “Disclose.”
He reached for an oil painting on the wall. His fingers traced its edges, and the soft clink of metal sounded. Serena’s breath snapped into her lungs. Peeling the frame away from the wall, he revealed a five-foot-tall safe.
Every muscle in her body twined tightly.
She couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about what was behind the safe’s door. The old Serena’s wheels wanted to turn, and despite her effort, every snippet of gossip she’d heard about Titus flicked a light on in the dark corners of her mind.
Diamonds. Gold. Cash.
And he was showing her the door to his safe because he thought her some flighty realtor. He had no idea that she was Serena Metcalf: thief.
No, dammit.
She was Serena Smith now. Top San Diego realtor.
She wouldn’t be tempted. She had almost everything she wanted now.
Money, freedom, and above all else, self-respect.
Everything except someone to come home to at night .
. . someone like Milo. Her ex’s face slid on the carousel of her mind and she shoved it out.
Seeing his picture on social media sure as hell hadn’t helped her focus tonight.
She cleared the gravel from her throat and kicked Milo from her mind like she did on an almost daily basis. Built-in safes were common in high-end listings, but she’d keep that bit to herself. “I’ll be sure not to reveal its existence without your permission.”
He swung the picture back into place and pressed his hand to the small of her back. “Let’s discuss the listing price downstairs.”
Her muscles tightened beneath his palm, and she curled her fingers until her knuckles ached to prevent herself from slapping him.
Please, don’t hit on me.
She stepped out of his reach and breezed through the master suite.
“I have the comps here we can go over,” she said, waving the folder at her side. He kept his hands to himself but lingered, too close, as they descended the stairs.
A deep quake rumbled in her belly. She wanted nothing more than to get out of Titus’s house—after she landed the listing. At one of the two expansive islands in the sleek, modern kitchen, she whipped the papers onto the pristine stone.
She went through each of the nineteen houses that compared closest to his that had recently sold or were currently on the market. “Considering these comps, the size of your lot, and the obvious upgrades, I’d suggest listing your home just below nine million.”
Her fantasies threatened to run wild. That would put her commission at over two hundred thousand dollars.
Lord almighty. It was more money than she ever could have dreamed of landing in one sale. She could even help Dani get on her feet and out of the game. But more than that, her career would be launched on a rocket. Once she sold this house, she’d be unstoppable.
“That will guarantee a quick sale?”
She tucked the corner of her mouth into her cheek. “I don’t think anything in this price range will go ‘quick,’ but you would be priced aggressively against what’s currently on the market.”
He propped his elbows on the island. “To be honest, I have a few other realtors I’m considering.
Some have valued my property higher, but .
. .” He turned his palm over. “I like you. Melanie says you’re her top agent,” he said, referring to her boss.
“I want someone young and hungry. Give me a couple of days. I have family visiting over the weekend, and I’ll be leaving for a business trip Sunday evening.
If I go with you, I expect my listing to become your priority. ”
Tremors threatened to take over her hands, so she busied them by tucking the papers together. “You have my word that your property will be at the top of my list.” She forced down her nerves and met his gaze.
His lips slid into a grin and his eyes dipped to her starched white button-down shirt and back up to her face.
She wouldn’t let him rattle her. She needed this contract.
His eyebrows lifted, but the skin on his forehead didn’t crinkle, likely from too many Botox injections that did nothing to help his receding hairline.
“I’ll do everything in my power to get this house sold.”
He straightened from the counter and held out his hand. With her heels on, she was nearly eye level with him. He couldn’t be more than five foot nine. Keeping her shoulders back, she pressed her hand into his, her grip firm.
“I’ll be in touch Sunday.” He winked, and despite the implications behind the gesture, her heart sang.
She’d gotten the listing.
She opened the door to her Acura SUV, dropped her fifteen-pound handbag on the passenger seat, and shut the door.
Having planned to go to the gym after her meeting with Titus, she’d packed her gym clothes.
No way she’d be focused enough to work out now.
Besides, didn’t most people chill on Friday nights?
She’d earned the break and the chocolate bar stashed above her fridge for nights like this.
A chill raised her flesh. She reached into the back seat, snagged the cardigan she kept there, and fit her arms through the heather-gray material. During the hour and a half that she’d been inside Titus’s house, rain had dampened her windshield.
She let out a little squeal and turned over the engine. She shouldn’t let herself get excited, but if Titus didn’t sign with her, she’d be shocked.
Her phone dinged from inside her purse, and she fished it out.
Please, S. Don’t make me beg.
Dani. Serena had already said no, and she wasn’t caving.
Her sister claimed she and Peyton had a goldmine heist and they needed her to help execute it.
But Serena was set. She loved her job. Sure, it lacked excitement and she had to work her ass off, but she made good money and was far away from the dangerous cycle she’d been stuck in for so long.
Dani and Peyton were her only ties to that life now.
She loved her sister dearly, but occasionally, Dani tried to tempt her with the heist of the century.
Serena didn’t blame either of them. Both women were so deeply engrained in that world that neither wanted out.
Sometimes she’d hear Dani speak longingly about a career in event planning, but just when Serena’s hopes would soar, Dani would reveal a new job she and Peyton were working on.
Serena glided her thumbs over the screen.
You know what my answer is. I’ll call you when I get home.
She dropped her phone in her bag and Milo’s face revisited her mind’s eye again .
. . She shook it away, but it kept ricocheting back, pushing away every other image she tried to replace him with.
Dammit, why had she scrolled through Facebook while scarfing down her supper in her vehicle before meeting Titus?