Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Her response comes before I finish mine.
Dreammafiaqueen
You don’t have to threaten the guy. That’s illegal and you could get kicked off here, you know.
Worth it. And it wasn’t a threat.
Dreammafiaqueen
Oh, roll my fucking eyes. As if you’re going to track down some anonymous loser and defend the honor of a woman you’ve never met over a stupid comment? Dude. Get a grip.
I narrow my eyes at the screen. I’ll get a grip alright, a grip of the fiery red hair wrapped around my fist that would get her attention loud and clear.
I think you spelled ‘thank you’ wrong.
I hit send, shutting down the conversation before she has the chance to reply. Tossing my phone onto the couch, I let the words linger in the air. She thinks I’m bluffing. She thinks this is just some harmless back-and-forth online.
I guess I can’t blame her.
She doesn’t know me. Yet.
I grab the phone, heart hammering with something sharp and hungry. I scroll fast, zeroing in on a name that’s proved useful: a fixer from my last job in L.A.
One call. One favor. Her location is mine before I hang up the phone.
Perfect. West side gym. My lip curls, adrenaline spiking as the address blinks on my screen, a live, pulsing dot. Like she’s waiting for me.
She’s right there, dangling within my reach like she was placed in my path on purpose.
I strip down, throw on workout gear, and slide my phone into my pocket.
The whole way there, I feel like I’m chasing something I’m meant to catch. Like if I don’t make it there faster, she’ll slip through my fingers.
When I walk into the gym, the scent of rubber mats and faintly metallic sweat fills my nose. A receptionist glances up, eyes widening slightly at my imposing figure. “Hello, sir! Are you here to sign up?”
I look around and don’t see her yet. Thankfully, she wouldn’t recognize me.
First, I’m not wearing a mask. I guess those masks serve a purpose. Second, I have a long-sleeved shirt on covering my tattoos. She’s heard my voice by now, but I don’t need to talk to her.
I nod, handing her my credit card without hesitation. “Yeah. Sign me up. I’ll fill out whatever forms you need later.” I lean in and flash her my most charming smile. “I’m pressed for time. Could you do that for me?”
Her cheeks redden, and she stammers out a quick, “O-of course. I’ll have the paperwork for you to sign when you leave.”
Card back in hand, I step past the desk, scanning the space until I find her. Ember. She’s at the squat rack, barbell balanced across her shoulders as she powers through reps. Her fiery hair is tied up, but stray strands cling to her damp skin.
I don’t linger. That would give me away. Instead, I head to the free weights nearby, grabbing weights and setting up a bench. From here, I can see her without making it obvious.
She finishes her set, resting for a moment and glancing around. I keep my focus on my chest press, pretending not to notice her. When her gaze passes over me, there’s no flicker of recognition. Good.
The tension in the air shifts slightly when she moves closer, now at the rowing machine in the same section. Her focus is razor-sharp, every move precise and deliberate.
She’s humble; I can tell that much. She often takes videos of herself in lounge clothes and sweats, cuddled in a blanket with a cup of tea and a book. Here? She’s all business, and I’m fucking here for it.
Her hair’s pulled back into a high ponytail, a few rebellious strands framing her face as she focuses on her next set. The flush on her cheeks isn’t makeup—it’s pure effort, earned with every lift and every bead of sweat that slides down the side of her neck.
She’s not trying to impress anyone. That’s the kicker. No fake smiles, no posturing for attention. Just pure, unfiltered focus on herself. It’s intoxicating, the way she moves with quiet confidence, like she’s in her own world. And for a moment, I let myself think how easy it would be to pull her into mine.
Her strength is magnetic, but it’s the duality that gets me. She’s lethal yet doesn’t flaunt it. Beautiful, yet completely unaware of how much she commands the room without even trying. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s impossible to look away.
I keep my workout steady, timing my sets to hers, staying just close enough to keep her in my periphery.
She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve already made her my target.
And I never, ever miss.
Chapter 4
EMBER
I stare at the video. My laptop glows, my heart pounding when I click start. This one is…different.
The video begins with a blurry view of a man’s face on a video call. He’s sitting in a cluttered room, his face cast in shadow but the terrified whites of his eyes staring at the screen. His voice quivers.