Page 3 of Royal Sin

It was as if he were looking for danger.

Well…he wouldn’t see me coming. Not that I was a threat to someone of his size. Those broad shoulders, covered in a perfectly tailored grey suit, looked like they were carved from hours spent in the boxing ring—a favorite pastime of the mogul.

With the valuable information at my disposal, I was ready for the staged introduction.

As he placed his order, I slipped to the counter where the drinks were delivered. The barista, whose pockets were a couple Benjamins heavier, gave me a small nod and handed me the businessman’s drink. Fate let the timing work perfectly, when Baldwin stopped to look at a bag of grounds on the display. He wouldn’t suspect that the drink was already made and in my hands.

When he came to wait at the end of the counter, our gaze collided briefly. He looked toward the baristas, but then that heavy black gaze stole a second glance in my direction. That was my cue. I sipped his beverage and made a face.

“This isn’t what I ordered,” I muttered, looking down at the cup.

Who in their right mind drank something so bitter? Brushing that thought away, I read the label on the cup.

“Leonard—ah crap. I grabbed the wrong cup,” I said and rubbed the tip of my burnt tongue on my teeth.

The businessman stepped in front of me.

“I believe that's mine,” he said, his voice deep and smooth like aged whiskey.

I feigned surprise, batting my lashes as if flustered. “Oh! I’m so sorry. The barista just handed it to me, and I didn’t look."

“Did she?” One dark eyebrow arched skeptically. His eyes—those penetrating obsidian pools—swept over my face, lingering a beat too long. “Interesting. I don’t recall seeing you in line ahead of me.”

My heart stuttered. The script I’d rehearsed for days suddenly felt flimsy and transparent. This man didn’t miss details. It was likely what made him the powerful head of a thriving company at the ripe age of twenty-nine. The reputation of being a ruthless cutthroat was easy to see, but it was the cunning strategistthat hid under the surface that I would have to tread carefully around.

“I ordered through the app,” I improvised, holding out his drink. Our fingers brushed during the exchange, and I felt a jolt that wasn’t part of the plan. “I’m Anna, by the way.”

“Anna.” He didn’t just repeat the name. His seemed to test it, tongue sliding over the sounds as they formed. “Leonard Baldwin,” he introduced himself, extending his free hand.

I reached to shake, and his fingers engulfed mine. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through me, like static electricity but more...intentional.

“Let me buy you another,” I stammered, a wave of frustration shooting through me.

“No harm done,” Baldwin replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Though I wouldn’t recommend making a habit of drinking strangers’ coffee. Especially in this city.”

Was that a warning? His words carried weight beyond the obvious caution.

I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the purpose of this meeting. “I hope you aren’t inconvenienced by this mishap.”

Amusement flickered through those inky eyes.

Goodness.They were so black. I didn’t think humans could have such black eyes. Demons, maybe, but not men.

“Not at all.”

“Your chia tea latte, Miss Anna,” the barista chimed in, his perfect timing cutting through the moment.

I moved to the counter, gave the employee a subtle wink, and started back to my table.

As planned, the shadow followed me. I stopped by my chair, turned, and feigned surprise.

“What are you working on?” He jerked his chin toward my laptop.

I cocked my head to the side. “Just this and that.”

But his keen gaze already scanned the screen. “Is that a book?”

I faltered again. I thought the other tab was on the screen. The one with the Excel sheet full of fake numbers. Not…the Word document.

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