Page 49 of Celestial Combat

Good enough to erase her tracks without a single misstep.

But that was the thing aboutmyoffice.

There was always a second pair of eyes.

I leaned back, fingers gliding across the keyboard as I connected to the live feed from the hidden camera embedded in the painting behind my desk.

The screen flickered, and then…

There she was.

I watched her movements, watched the determination in her face, the way her mouth parted when shefoundhim.

The bastard I had been tracking down all week.

Now, I knew everything about the fucker – from how many years he did down in Rikers Island to what fucking color socks he had on.

A slow smirk spread across my lips as I shut the feed down.

I stood, grabbed my jacket and threw it back on.

Kali wasn’t the only one hunting tonight.

Chapter 16

Present

Chinatown, New York City

THE CLUB PULSED AROUND ME, a slow, hypnotic rhythm of bass vibrating through the red lacquered walls. Low-hanging lanterns bathed the space in a warm, golden glow, their light flickering like candle flames with every shift in the air. Dragons curled along the ceiling in gilded swirls, their painted scales catching the neon reflections of the lit bar. The scent of incense mixed with the sharper notes of liquor and expensive cologne, a blend of indulgence and sin.

It was the kind of place where people came to disappear.

And tonight, that’s exactly what I had done.

My usual curls were straightened to sleek perfection, the dark strands falling smooth and glossy down my back. Heavy eyeliner and a bolder, darker lip reshaped my face, casting sharper shadows against my cheekbones. The glittery top I wore shimmered under the club lights, shifting like liquid metal every time I moved. Paired with tight, low-rise jeans and heels that added just enough height, I looked like someone else.

Not Kali Su.

Not the girl who had spent four years dreaming of this moment.

And when I spotted him, leaning against the VIP entrance like the worthless piece of shit mattered, I made sure to school my face into something unreadable.

Hiroshi Taira.

I felt his gaze on me before I even turned to meet it.

Snake tattoo curling up his neck, thick arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes dragged over me, assessing, lingering. The recognition never sparked in his expression, but I knew he was watching.

I let my lips curve into the faintest hint of a smile before I turned away, giving him my back like I didn’t care whether he followed or not.

A glance at my watch.

A couple minutes to one in the morning.

I lifted my drink to my lips, pretending to sip the watered-down cocktail as I kept track of the time.

Waited.

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