Betrayal in His Arms

asks, "Ho

smear by-storefronts, rain-streaked glass, t

ts back, jacket unbuttoned, one hand resting against the seat, the other scrolling through messa

Valoria glows-too perfect from

m him. "You want a ful

r than

ne, Isabella.' Corporate events consultant.

repeats. "Means som

m. "She got under

indow. "No. Am just curious.

s it's st

not a smile. "Then I

r iron gates as they open soundlessly. The estate stretches over the cliffs-glass, steel, a

Adrian heads for his home office, motion sensors blooming light across the floor. The space i

stands before the window. Valoria lies below l

her chin, the defiance at

linch. Every

ase is unacceptable. He drains the g

h an intercom. "Background

ve t

erst

room. The untouched second glass, the re

*

pace is small, painted in warm tones that don't match her current chill. She locks

back: Adrian Steele,

nized crime involvement. Money launde

name. The reas

inst the picture until t

is fo

iet but magnetic. The way the room had bent

y, at herself. "You're

through the night, m

down. Sleep comes in fragments-his face in the crowd, her own reflection in his gla

*

, phone in his pocket, jacket over one shoulder. The path g

iffs. Wind moves through the hedges, carrying th

ntrance, observation, contact. He slows the frames where she smiles. So

re you Ms Lane? And why do I

with its usual

*

rom the gala. He watches Isabella's movements frame by frame: the way she sc

ote: She exp

t delete

*

Fog climbs from the water, w

urmurs news about markets, politics, the usual noise. She

ites a single line

mplete. Subj

t the notebook, the

ion-none

kes once before she

*

s cold. The paper Marcus left on his desk waits besi

motion precise. His reflection stare

e who you really are." Out