Page 90 of His to Hunt

"And you're jealous." Graham grins, grabbing his jacket. "Beckett, try not to brood too much after we leave. Bad for digestion."

I escort them to the door, enduring one final round of good-natured ribbing before the penthouse falls silent again. Alone with my thoughts, I immediately check the security feed from upstate.

Luna has finished her painting.

I zoom in on the canvas, something in my chest tightening unexpectedly.

It's my face, emerging from shadow and storm. Raw. Powerful. Seeing too much.

And suddenly, Graham's words return with uncomfortable clarity. I have changed. Something fundamental has shifted since Luna entered my life. Something I've been carefully avoiding naming.

I shut down the feed, moving to my office where I activate my most secure workstation. Baine doesn't realize he'smade a critical error in his demand. Nexus Dynamics isn't just any client—they're the client whose security protocols I personally designed three years ago. Systems that include a hidden alert mechanism that will notify the CEO directly if anyone attempts to access the quantum encryption files.

A notification that can't be traced back to me.

I begin typing, a plan already forming. By morning, Anthony Baine will think I'm working to betray my client. By the end of the week, he'll be facing federal charges for attempted corporate espionage.

And Luna will be safe—not because of what I'm willing to sacrifice, but because of what I refuse to become.

Thirty-Six

BECKETT

The soundof my fingerprints being scanned echoes in the empty hallway as I input the security sequence to my private server room. Three days. Three days of meticulous planning, false leads, and carefully laid traps. Three days away from Luna.

But now everything is in place.

The server room hums with quiet efficiency as I take a seat at the main terminal. The last piece needs to be set before I can return to her. I pull up the secured communication channel—one that can't be traced, can't be monitored, can't be used as evidence against me later.

Anthony Baine's number appears on the screen.

"Sinclair," he answers on the second ring, voice smooth as aged whiskey. "I trust you have good news."

"It's done," I reply, keeping my voice neutral despite the satisfaction curling in my gut. "The access point is established.You'll receive the encryption key in a separate transmission within the hour."

"Excellent." The pleasure in his voice is palpable. "I knew you would see reason."

What he doesn't know—what I've made sure he can't know—is that the "access point" I've created is nothing more than an elaborate honeypot, designed to look like Nexus Dynamics' main server architecture while actually being an isolated system filled with carefully crafted false data. The moment Baine or his people attempt to access the quantum encryption algorithms, not only will they find themselves downloading worthless gibberish, but the attempted breach will be automatically reported to both federal authorities and Nexus Dynamics' CEO.

With Baine's digital fingerprints all over it.

"The Collectors are pleased with your cooperation," Baine continues. "Luna Laurent is formally recognized as your Possession."

"As she should have been from the start," I reply, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Baine chuckles. "Perhaps. But rules exist for a reason, Sinclair. Even for men like us."

Especially for men like us. The thought remains unspoken.

"Is that all?" I ask, already mentally moving to the next phase of my plan.

"For now," Baine confirms. "Hunt what runs, Sinclair."

"Keep what's caught," I respond automatically.

"Control what's kept," he finishes before the line disconnects.

I sit back, a grim smile spreading across my face. One problem solved. One threat neutralized. But there's still Christopher Finch to deal with.

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