Page 229 of Mine Again
The sight of him here makes my stomach twist.
His presence stains the air, and I cinch the robe tighter, feeling stripped bare beneath his gaze.
“What are you doing in my room?” I force out.
My throat is raw, but I keep my chin high. I’ve already spent too much of my day with this man. I want nothing more to do with him.
“Your room?” He arches a brow, taunting. “Last I checked, this was my house.”
Pawn, pawn, pawn.The word that caged me.
But now it cracks, splinters, falls away. I will not be moved or sacrificed. I’m no longer a pawn. Queens write the game. And I will learn how.
Because IamLuca’s queen.
“Well, as I’m a distinguished guest,” I lift my fingers to sketch mocking quotation marks in the air, “I’d expect at least the courtesy of a knock. Even an announcement.”
He ignores the barb, his attention sliding deliberately to the robe clinging to my body.
“This is fetching,” he drawls. “I’m happy to see you’re making yourself more at home.”
I yank the lapels of the bathrobe closer, not wanting to give him any ideas. My retort is already on my tongue when a picture on the television screen catches my eye.
A news bulletin. Luca’s face stares out in a mock-up image, glaring at the world. The anchor’s voice cuts sharp and urgent.
The air in my lungs freezes. My pulse stumbles.
Hale isn’t here to spar. He’s here because he wants me to see this.
The dread isn’t a whisper but a slow flood, seeping cold into my bones, testing the delicate confidence I clawed together in the shower.
What has he done now?
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Isabella
Istare at the television. Hale, the ever-gallant host, turns up the volume for me to hear better.
Ah, such a gentleman.
The anchor’s voice is brisk and rehearsed, but even through the screen, I hear the strain.
“Interpol has confirmed a credible sighting of the hacker known as the Venom in Tangier, Morocco. Witnesses report seeing a man matching his description arriving at the harbor.”
Hmm. Interesting. They don’t mention a woman. Coincidence? I think not.
And this happened days ago. Why report on it now? This screams of Hale’s doing. But why?
The camera cuts to a fisherman, his lined face pale under the spotlight. Subtitles scroll along the bottom of the screen.
“I’d seen his picture in the paper. I recognized him right away. He arrived in a speedboat and took off on foot. That man felt dangerous.God knows what he’s here to do.”
“That’s one of your guys, isn’t it?” I ask Hale, keeping my eyes on the television.
When he doesn’t respond, I glance at him. His broad grin is all the answer I need.
“In response, Interpol has issued a Red Notice, elevating the Venom to one of the most wanted criminals alive. His face will appear at ports, checkpoints, and surveillance hubs worldwide. Anyone with information on his whereabouts is urged to come forward.
