The kiss was a problem. Not because I regretted it. That would have been easier. The problem was that I didn't regret it at all.
For the next three days, Alistair and I behaved as if nothing had happened. Or, at least, we tried.
Ge still called me into his office every morning. I still told him he was impossible. Everything looked normal. Except for the way he'd sometimes look at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention. And they way I'd suddenly forget what I was saying whenever he stood too close.
It was irritating. Very irritating.
Especially because I knew there was something else bothering me. The night of his injury hadn't been an isolated incident. His wounds had been too serious. His behavior had been too controlled. And that phone call he'd received before leaving his office had never stopped bothering me.
So, when he left the building earlier than usual that Friday evening, I watched him disappeared into the private elevator. Then I looked at my watch. Six forty-two. I grabbed my coat.
"Where are you going?" Meredith asked.
"Home."
She looked at the elevator. "You're going in the opposite direction."
I smiled. "I changed my mind."
She stared at me. "Should I be worried?"
"Probably."
I walked away before she could ask anything else. I wasn't following Alistair because I was suspicious. That was what I told myself. I was following him because I was curious. At least, that's what I wanted to believe.
I kept a reasonable distance behind his car as we moved through Manhattan. His driver took several turns I didn't recognize. Then we left the busier streets. The buildings became older. The sidewalks emptier. The kind of neighborhood where people knew better than to stare at expensive cars.
I slowed down. Alistair's car stopped in front of an old brick building. There was nothing remarkable about it. No sign. No company name. I parked farther down the street, then I watched.
Alistair stepped out. The moment the two men saw him, they straightened. One of them opened the door. The other lowered his head. Alistair walked past them without saying a word. Then both men bowed.
I blinked. Okay. That wasn't normal. I got out of my car. I stayed far enough away to avoid being noticed and crossed the street. The door had already closed. I approached the building slowly. A security camera followed my movement.
I immediately stepped away. "Okay," I whispered. "Definitely not a normal business meeting."
I walked around the side of the building. There was another entrance. This one wasn't guarded. I opened the door carefully. A narrow staircase led downward. I hesitated. Every sensible part of my brain told me to leave. Naturally, I went downstairs. The deeper I went. The quieter it became then I heard voices. Men. Several of them. I stopped before reaching the bottom. One voice was unmistakable. Alistair.
"Where is the shipment?"
"Already moved."
"Where?"
"Dock seven."
A second man spoke. "We lost two men."
Silence. Then Alistaur's voice became colder. "Why?"
"They were followed."
"By whom?"
"We don't know."
"Then find out." His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The room went silent after he spoke.
I slowly looked around the corner. Weapons were visible beneath their jackets. A large table occupied the center of the room, covered with files, photographs, maps, and several phones. And standing at the head of it was Alistair. My boss. The ruthless CEO who supposedly spent his evenings reviewing corporate reports. Except there wasn't a single corporate report in that room.
He looked different down there. More dangerous. More comfortable.
One man approached him. "Mr. Ashford." Alistair looked at him. The man immediately lowered his head. "Sir." Alistair nodded. I stared.
So, this was the man behind the CEO. Not just a billionaire businessman. Not just a powerful executive. Whatever this was, these men feared him. And judging by the way they obeyed him, they weren't employees. They were something else entirely.
My phone suddenly vibrated, I nearly dropped it. I quickly silenced it. One of the men looked toward the hallway. I froze. Alistair turned. His eyes swept across the room. For one terrifying second, I thought he'd seen me.
Then someone called his name. "Sir."
He turned slowly. I exhaled slowly. That was close. I should have left. Instead, I stayed. Because then Alistair's phone rang. He looked at the screen. No caller ID. He answered.
"Talk."
A distorted voice came through the speaker. I couldn't hear everything. Only fragments.
"...information..."
"...confirmed..."
"...El Diablo..."
My entire body went still.
Alistair's expression hardened. "What do you have?"
The voice continued. "Location unknown. But we've identified another connection."
"Who?"
"An old Ashford contact."
His jaw tightened. "Send me everything." The call ended. He stared at the phone. Then he looked at the man around him. "We're getting closer."
One of them nodded. "To El Diablo?"
"Yes."
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my expression neutral. Of all the things I could have discovered tonight... this. Of course. Alistair Harvey Ashford wasn't simply involved in the underground world. He was hunting something. Someone. An organization powerful enough to have an entire network searching for it. And the name they whispered like it was a curse?
El Diablo. I almost laughed. Almost. Because if there was one thing I had learned about him during the short time, I'd known him, it was that he hated losing. And apparently, someone had given him a target he couldn't find.
I watched him slip his phone into his pocket. "Double the surveillance," he ordered.
"Yes, sir."
"And nobody acts without my permission."
The men nodded. He turned toward the exit. I immediately stepped backward into the shadows. My heartbeat remained steady. My face remained calm. But inside, I couldn't help thinking about the ridiculousness of the situation.
My boss was hunting an organization he clearly considered his greatest enemy. And I was standing in the hallway listening to him plan the search. I pressed my lips together. This was going to be much more complicated than being a secretary. Much more.
I waited until he disappeared through the other hallway before I moved. One step then another. Slowly and quietly.
I reached the staircase and started walking back up. My mind was still processing everything I'd heard. Weapons. Men. Orders. El Diablo.
Apparently, my boss had a second life. And somehow, I had managed to walk straight into it. I reached the street and slipped back into my car.
The moment I closed the door, I leaned against the headrest and exhaled. "Okay." I stared at the windshield. "That was definitely not a normal business meeting." I laughed quietly.
What was I supposed to do with that information? Call the police? Tell Meredith? Ask him why half the city seemed terrified of him?
None of those sounded particularly intelligent. So, I did what any reasonable person would do. I drove home. At least, that was the plan.
My phone rang before I reached the first intersection. I glanced at the screen. Unknown number. I ignored it. It rang again. I ignored it again. Then a message appeared.
Unknown: You shouldn't have been there.
My hands tightened around the steering wheel. I stopped at the red light. I stared at the message. Another one appeared.
Unknown: Go home.
I looked around. Cars. Pedestrians. Streetlights. Nothing unusual. But suddenly, every parked vehicle looked suspicious. I locked my doors then I drove. Fast.
By the time I reached my apartment, the messages had stopped. I checked the street before getting out. Nothing. I entered the building and went upstairs. The moment I closed my apartment door, I learned against it.
"That was stupid."
Following Alistair had been stupid. Getting caught would have been worse. And now someone knew I'd been there. I walked toward the kitchen and poured myself water.
My phone vibrated again. This time, it was Alistair.
Alistair: Where are you?
I stared at the screen then typed.
Me: Home.
His reply came almost immediately.
Alistair: You left the office without telling me.
I frowned.
Me: You told me not to stay late.
Three dots appeared.
Alistair: I didn't tell you to disappear.
I rolled my eyes.
Me: I'm not your prisoner.
His reply came after several seconds.
Alistair: Good night, Ezhra.
I smiled.
Me: Good night.
I put the phone down then stared at the ceiling. Something about him bothered me. Not because he was dangerous. I already knew that.
It was because, somehow, he could be both. The man who bought me coffee in the morning. The man who kissed me in his coffee. And the man who stood in a room full of armed men and made them lower their heads. I couldn't make the two versions fit together. Maybe they weren't supposed to.
The next morning, I arrived early. Allistair was already there. Of course. He was standing by the window, holding a cup of coffee. When I entered, he turned.
"You're early."
"So, are you."
"I own the building."
"Congratulations." He gave me a look. I placed his schedule on his desk. "You have a nine o'clock meeting."
"Cancel it."
"You have a ten o'clock meeting."
"Cancel it."
"Eleven?"
"Cancel it."
I stare at him. "Do you want me to cancel your entire company?"
He walked toward me. "Maybe."
"You'd be bored."
"I have you."
I blinked. He walked toward me. I turned. `Was that supposed to be charming?"
"No."
"It worked anyway."
He stopped then looked over his shoulder. "It did?"
I immediately looked away. "No."
His quiet laughed followed me. I hated that sound. Mostly because I liked it. I sat at my desk and opened my laptop. He stood beside it. "You seem distracted."
"I'm working."
"You've been staring at the screen for thirty seconds."
"Maybe the screen is interesting."
"Is it?"
"Very."
He leaned closer. "What's on it?"
I closed the laptop. "Nothing."
He stared at me. I stared back. There was something different in his expression. Suspicion. "Did something happen last night?"
My heart skipped. "No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"You're lying."
I smiled. "You really liked accusing people."
"Only when they lie badly."
I stood. "Do you want your schedule?"
"No."
"Your coffee?"
"No."
"Your medical kit?"
"No."
"Then why are you bothering me?"
His eyes softened slightly. "Because you look tired."
I paused. "I'm fined."
He gave me a look. "You sound like me."
"Maybe you're rubbing off on me."
"That's dangerous."
"I'll survive."
He watched me for a moment. Then his phone rang. He answered. "Yes?" His expression immediately changed. I watched the warmth disappear. He listened. "Send it." A pause. "Now." He ended the call. I didn't ask. He looked at me. "You should go home tonight."
I frowned. "Why?"
"I have business."
"You always have business."
"This is different."
"Is it dangerous?" He didn't answer. That was enough answer. I crossed my arms. "You're not going to tell me."
"No."
"Fine."
He stared at me. "Fine?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to argue?"
"I've learned that arguing with you is exhausting."
"Good."
I smiled. "Besides, you're my boss."
Something changed in his expression. "Only at work." I looked at him. He held my gaze then he walked away.
I remained standing there. Only at work. I didn't know whether that was a warning or a promise. That evening, I stayed late anyway. Not because I wanted to follow him again. I wasn't that reckless. I stayed because I needed answers. And because I had a feeling the world Alistair was involved in was about to collide with mine.
At exactly seven thirty, his private elevator opened. He stepped out wearing a black coat. Two men followed him. Security. I watched them leave. This time, I didn't follow. I simply watched from the window. His car disappeared into Manhattan traffic. I lowered the blinds then I smiled faintly.
He was hunting something he couldn't understand. Something he clearly feared. Something powerful enough to make a man like him devote resources to finding it. And the irony was almost funny. He thought he was getting closer. He had no idea how close he already was.
I picked up my handbag. "Good luck, Mr. Ashford." I switched of the lights. "And try not to get yourself killed."
Because despite everything, I'd learned about him that night, one thing remained annoyingly clear. I didn't want anything to happen to him. Not yet. Not ever, perhaps.
And that realization was far more dangerous than anything waiting beneath the streets of Manhattan.
