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I stare at the laptop, at the faces of my team. I need to redirect my focus back to where it belongs. Regain my control. Stop the high-def replay of a kiss I was never supposed to have.

“I’ll handle it.” I reach back to rub the tense muscles in my neck, wishing I were anywhere but here. Trapped in this chaos I’ve created. “Sorry, guys. I think I’ve been running on fumes for too long. I’ll do another sweep once I get home, then make it an early evening and see you bright and early in the morning.”

“That’s a good idea, boss. We’ll tackle this tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Rest. Yeah, right. My mind is an EF5 tornado. Usually when I’m spinning out of control like this, I call Annalise at The Rox to see if anyone is available for the night. Yet even though I know nothing can ever happen with Cassidy, there isn’t an ounce of me that would be able to get it up with another woman. I’m certain of it.

So a heavy workout in my gym, followed by a hot shower, and a glass of scotch is on the agenda. Before I set the timer on my watch and give in to satisfying my addiction. Hopefully, this time I can limit it to a few hours on the dark web hunting for clues as to what happened.

Where did you go, Isla?

23

CASSIDY

I blink the sleep from my eyes as the morning light narrowly filters through the blackout curtains of my bedroom. My first move isn’t for my phone, but for the nightstand. I reach out and touch the crisp edge of Sebastian Lee’s business card. It’s been a week since he stood in the club foyer and generously offered me a lifeline. A kindness I won’t forget anytime soon. It has also been a week since Max walked out of the front doors of the building and practically vanished.

As much as I’d love to work with him again, I refuse to question his absence. I’m not begging any man to show me attention, work or otherwise. If I wouldn’t ask my ex-boyfriend, Henry, why he didn’t visit while I was in the hospital or check on me once I was home, I certainly won’t chase after this enigma of a man.

I’m determined not to ask Lala or the girls if Max has been around while making small talk. If he wanted to reach out, he would. That’s the story I cling to, even while some traitorous part of me replays every second we were together, searching for hidden meaning. Was this purely a physical attraction, or is there more? Could a rich, powerful man like Max Wilde really be interested in me? Or was that lapse in restraint merely because I’m a forbidden temptation? A novelty in this tech genius’ world.

The longing is the worst part. It’s a slow, steady ache deep in my chest. It’s muted during the day when I can distract myself, but it returns at night when the world goes quiet. I tell myself to get it together. I’m above pining over a single kiss. But that’s exactly what I’m doing. Replaying the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue as it swept into my mouth, the way he pushed me against that door and took what he wanted. What does it say about me that after all I’ve been through, I enjoyed his rough, dominant possession?

That kiss is practically all I’ve thought about. And not just because it’s been so long since a man touched me. No one has ever made my body come alive the way he did. Henry certainly never had that effect on me.

Being with Max makes my heart race. Initially, I blamed it on infatuation. A wide-eyed cyber student’s enchantment for the hot, larger-than-life tech god. This was more than the way his mouth felt against mine. Though, god, that alone is enough to ruin me. The heat of it. The way the world seemed to spin right off its axis when he muttered, Fuck it, slamming his body against mine.

One minute, I was perfectly in control. The next, I was unraveling, fingers fisted in his hair like I needed him to keep me upright. It was reckless. Still, the way he knew it was forbidden and went all in was deliberate. And that’s what undoes me.

Max kissed me like he meant it.

Dragging the pad of my finger back and forth over my lower lip, I catch myself wondering if he’s thinking about it too. If he pauses in the middle of his day the way I do, momentarily lost. If he remembers the soft sound I made when his thumb brushed my jaw. If he feels this same restless pull. Yeah, right. I practically facepalm myself. Like this powerful man has given me a second thought.

I won’t chase him. I won’t beg for answers. Pride is a stubborn thing, and mine refuses to bend after coming this far. I’ve already endured the emptiness of feeling discarded. The man I thought loved me, walking away when I needed him most. I’m not letting this one do the same.

But late at night, when the lights are off and I’m alone with the truth, I admit it, I don’t just miss working with him. I miss the way he looked at me. That heady, intense feeling that swirled around us like a tropical storm. And I’d love to feel it again.

However, I have much bigger fish to fry than a hot alpha CEO. I can’t allow this attraction to an off-limits billionaire to slow my progress. One day, I’ll have a career in digital forensics that I’m proud of. But for now, I need to protect the job I have. It’s the only thing keeping me safe until I’m strong enough to walk away.

Later that morning, the gym at the club is humid and smells of defeat. Holt and I finish a grueling circuit, and I’m bent over my knees, gasping for air, while he looks like he’s barely broken a sweat.

He looks at me nervously, wiping his face with a towel. “Dad’s birthday is in a few weeks. I’m going to visit him at the cemetery. I’d really like it if you’d come with me.”

I freeze. The air in the gym suddenly feels as thick as pea soup. “Holt...”

“I’ll be there the whole time,” he reassures, his voice softening. “I honestly think it’d be good for you. You never had the chance to say goodbye.”

I close my eyes, and suddenly I’m not in the gym anymore.

The smell of antiseptic is overwhelming. My head throbs with pain while a rhythmic, mechanical beat keeps time beside me. The telemetry monitor. I can feel the intravenous tubes, the scratchy tape on my skin, and the constant chatter in the hallway, reminding me of where I am. The fog in my brain lifts just enough to see Holt sitting by my bed, his forehead resting on the mattress, and his strong hand holding mine. I barely recognize him. He looks so different. Broken.

“Where’s Dad?” I whisper, my voice a raspy ghost of itself.

Holt looks up, his jaw tight. “Marleigh. Rest. You just woke up.”

But I see it in the way he looks back at me. His eyes conveying a pain beyond anything I’ve seen from him before. Something isn’t right. This isn’t about my condition. I grab his wrist, my grip weak but desperate. “Holt. Tell me.”

He breaks then. Tears track through the dark stubble on his cheeks. “He’s gone, Mar. While you were unconscious and hooked up to the monitors. His heart… it gave out. It was all too much for him.”