Liam
The morning was quiet. Too quiet.
For the first time in weeks, I didn't shadow Harley to her office or keep a discreet step behind her down the marble halls of her company. I'd told her I needed the day off. She didn't ask why, and somehow, that made it worse.
I dressed like always — black shirt, fitted slacks, boots laced with precision. Controlled. Calculated. I looked like myself, but something about today sat wrong in my chest.
The hospital's smell hit me the second I walked through the automatic doors — bleach, sterile metal, and the faint undercurrent of something dying.
I hated this place.
Room 407. I didn't knock. Just walked in.
My father was thinner than I remembered. Hollow cheeks. Sallow skin. He looked like a shadow of the man who trained me to be made of steel. But his eyes — those sharp, all-knowing eyes — hadn't changed.
"You came," he rasped, voice like gravel under boots.
"Yeah." I sat, elbows on my knees, watching him breathe.
"You're not just here for me."
"You always did hate small talk."
He smiled. Barely. "Tell me."
"I'm watching Harley like you told me to. She's clean." I paused. "But her father? He's not."
His eyes sharpened. "Details."
"He's hired one of ours. Probably thinks he's being slick, but he's too predictable. One of the men from our family circle is in his pocket now, working security. That gives us access — feeds, cameras, blind spots. You name it."
He nodded slowly, every movement costing him effort. "Good.
I stood after a moment. "I've got another meeting."
My father's voice cracked as I turned to leave. "Don't get too close to her, son. That kind of softness... it'll cost you more than the job."
I didn't answer. Didn't need to. The weight of his warning followed me out like a shadow.
I didn't return to Harley. Not yet.
Instead, I drove across town to a dead-end street behind a construction site, where a concrete building stood like a forgotten bunker. The kind of place you only found if you were meant to.
Inside, Darius was waiting. Hoodie on. Arms crossed. My second-in-command. My right-hand man. Loyal to a fault.
"She's in," he said before I even opened my mouth.
"Linda Gray?" I asked.
He nodded. "Her father's one of Diaz's closest partners. Real tight with him. She's not just a project lead — she's a damn gatekeeper."
"I noticed her. She noticed me too."
Darius smirked. "Pretty girl. Looked like she liked the attention."
I frowned. "It wasn't for her."
"I know. But use it. Flirt back. We need her to trust you. Her clearance gets us full system access. Live feeds. Board meetings. Intel that matters."
He handed me a tablet. I scrolled through footage — Harley's office, her conference rooms, corridors, even the elevator. We were already in deep. Too deep to pull out now.
Darius glanced at me. "You sure you can keep your feelings out of this?"
I didn't answer right away." Why does everything ask me that. Sure she's pretty but..."
Harley flashed through my mind. Her soft smile when she was exhausted. The way she kept checking her phone when Steve didn't text. She thought I didn't notice. But I saw everything.
"...she's not the mission," I said finally.
"No," he agreed. "But she could be the thing that breaks it."
I closed the tablet, jaw tight.
If it came down to her or the job, I already knew which one I'd choose.
And that scared the hell out of me.
After the meeting with Darius, I didn't go home.
I drove. No destination. Just miles and silence.
There's something about watching the city blur past your window — steel and glass, strangers crossing pavements with stories you'll never know. It reminds you that you're just a piece in someone else's machine. And right now, that machine belonged to Harley's father.
Not Harley.
Her father.
He had secrets. He always had. That's why I was embedded — to uncover the connections that ran too deep for public records and too dirty for headlines.
Linda Gray was one of them.
I pulled up her file again. Daughter of Geoffrey Gray. Works closely with Harley's father. Financial consulting. Infrastructure contracts. Surveillance systems. She had access to everything.
Harley didn't know. She couldn't. She moved through life trusting people who didn't deserve it. Her father wore suits laced with charm and power, but I'd seen what was underneath.
And now… she was standing in the middle of a storm without even realizing it.
The mission wasn't just about gathering data anymore. It was about interception. Prevention.
Darius had already tapped Linda's work emails. We'd mirror them to a secondary server by tomorrow. Then I'd reach out. Not obviously. Nothing too sudden. But subtle. Measured. Like all good operations.
I'd show up in places she frequented. Offer help. Let her feel seen. The more relaxed she was around me, the more careless she'd be.
That was the game.
But my mind — traitorous and unreliable — drifted back to Harley.
Her face when Steve didn't call. Her tension when Gabriella flirted with me. Her silence in the car.
Was I using her, too?
Or was I just trying to protect something that was never mine to begin with?
I rolled my window down, letting the wind bite my skin like punishment.
This mission had layers. It always did.
But I couldn't afford to forget what my father taught me.
Feelings get you killed.
And Harley.
Harley was starting to feel like a weakness I couldn't shake.
The way she walked — like she owned the air around her. How her body moved with quiet confidence in rooms that would swallow lesser people whole. How her clothes hugged her frame — soft curves, deliberate lines — making it impossible not to notice.
And sometimes, just sometimes, I'd catch her looking at me. Not like a client. Not like someone guarded or afraid. But like she saw me.
And it made me think twice.
About everything.
So I avoided her gaze. Held back my words. Stayed silent in moments that begged for something more.
Because I had to.
Because if I didn't, I might forget who I was.
And worse — I might start believing I had the right to want her.
I rolled my window down, letting the wind bite at my jaw.