Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I type back.
Doing it now. I’m feeding them the dummy streams as we speak. Hurry, Oz. I don’t know how much longer I can stall without them hurting her. She’s scared.
Ozzy responds almost immediately.
We’re moving as fast as we can. Knight and Gage are on one site with Maddox ALPHA team, Arrow and Render on the other with BRAVO. Maddox is coordinating from the safehouse. Stay alive. Keep your head down. And Poe… keep your head on straight. We’ll get Enley. Then we’ll get you out. You good?
I hesitate, fingers hovering over the keys. I want to tell him everything. About the pool party, the training in the yard, the way Orchid had looked at me tonight in that black dress. About how I dropped to my knees for her and meant every second of it. About how I’m starting to care about her in a way that makes no sense at all.
But I don’t.
Instead, I type:
I’m good. Just get Enley. I’ll keep feeding the dummy hack. Tell the team I’m sorry for how this looks. I never wanted any of this.
Ozzy’s next message comes slower, like he’s thinking.
We know you didn’t. We’ve got your back. Just stay breathing. Lay low. We’re coming.
I stare at the screen for a long moment, throat tight. I close the board, wipe every trace of the conversation, and go back to the official hack. I start feeding the system the dummy data Maddox had prepped, making it look like I’m giving Serafina exactly what she wants. Progress bars fill slowly. Reports generate. Everything looks perfect from the outside.
But my mind keeps drifting upstairs. To Orchid. To the way she rushed away from me like I burned her. To the way I saw something real crack in her eyes right before the mask slammed back down.
I care about her. More than I should. She’s not the villain in this story. She’s trapped in it, same as me. And tonight, for a few minutes against that wall, she let me see her. The real her. Not the enforcer. Not the mask.
I want to go up there right now and tell her that. I want to pull her into my arms and say I’m not using her. That the way I touched her, tasted her, was real. That I still want her so badly it hurts. But I can’t. I need to focus on the hack. On saving Enley and myself.
I keep working, feeding the dummy hack through the system, buying every precious minute I can for Ozzy and the team. Every line of code feels like another second I’m stealing back for all of us.
The house stays quiet around me. Upstairs, Orchid’s door remains closed. I wonder what she’s doing. I wonder if she hates me now. I wonder how the hell I’ve gone from hating the woman who locked me in this cage to wanting nothing more than to hold her and tell her I’m sorry for the way the words had come out.
I keep typing.
I keep hoping.
And I keep the secret of how much I’m starting to care for her locked tight behind my own mask, because right now the only thing that matters is getting Enley back safe.
Everything else, including the beautiful, complicated woman sleeping down the hall with her walls back up, has to wait.
EIGHTEEN
ORCHID
The clock on my nightstand glows 4:07 a.m. when my eyes snap open. Sleep has been impossible. Every time I drift off, I feel Poe’s hands on my thighs, his tongue between my legs, the low rumble of his voice calling me baby while I fall apart against the wall. I lie there staring at the ceiling for another ten minutes before I give up. My body’s still humming with leftover want, and my chest aches with something sharper. Embarrassment. Regret. The sting of realizing how easily I let myself believe he wanted me for me.
I pull on a soft robe over my t-shirt and slip downstairs barefoot, needing water or movement or anything that might quiet my head.
The office light is on, spilling into the hallway like a beacon. I pause in the doorway and see Poe there, hunched over the triple monitors, fingers flying across the keyboard. His hair is messy, dark circles under his eyes, but he’s still working. The glow of the screens paints sharp shadows across his face and bare shoulders.
Has he been up all night?
I step inside, arms crossed over my chest like that might protect me from the way my pulse jumps at the sight of him. “Have you been up all night?”
Poe glances over, eyes tired but still sharp. He nods once. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”
We sit in silence for a long minute. The only sound is the low hum of the computer fans and the occasional click of his mouse. The tension between us still lingers in the air, thick and uncomfortable, mixed with everything we have not said.