Kairo Blackwell hated being followed.
Even now three hours after the fight, adrenaline burned off, knuckles aching he could feel her presence behind him as he moved through the private corridor of the arena. Not close enough to crowd him. Not far enough to forget.
Annoying. Are you always this annoying?
Rude much..She rolled her eyes.
"You plan to stare at my back all night," he said without turning, "or is this part of the package?"
Naya Cross didn't break stride. "If someone puts a bullet in you, I'm responsible. So yes. I'll be staring."He smirked. "Romantic."
She didn't respond.
That irritated him more than he expected.
Most people filled silence around him with noise flattery, fear, forced confidence. Naya let silence breathe. She treated it like a weapon. Or armor.
They reached the armored SUV waiting outside. The driver stepped out, nodding quickly at Naya. She checked the perimeter before opening the door for Kairo, eyes scanning rooftops, reflections, shadows.
"You always this paranoid?" Kairo asked as he slid inside.
"Only when someone's life is worth millions," she replied, shutting the door.
The engine started. Monaco's night lights blurred past the tinted windows.
Kairo leaned back, studying her reflection in the glass. Her posture was relaxed but ready, like a coiled spring. No wasted movement. No nervous habits. A faint scar traced along her jawlinethin, old, deliberate.
Military, he thought. Definitely military.
"You ever smile?" he asked.
She met his gaze in the reflection. "You ever shut up?"
He laughed short and surprised. "Touché, soldier."
Her jaw tightened. "Don't call me that."
The edge in her voice wasn't loud. It was worse controlled, buried, final.
Kairo raised his hands in surrender. "Noted."
They rode the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn't empty anymore. It crackled, charged with something neither of them named.