Cynthia’s breath hitched as she stared at the person standing in front of her door.

Mike.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as she gripped the door handle, fingers trembling slightly. His expression was unreadable, his blue eyes cold and piercing as they roamed over her.

“Did I wake you?” His voice was deceptively smooth, but she wasn’t fooled. There was always something dangerous lurking beneath his tone.

Cynthia swallowed hard. “N-no.”

His gaze flickered to her phone, which lay face down on the nightstand, its screen still glowing faintly from Collins’ call. Her stomach twisted.

Had he seen it?

Mike stepped forward without waiting for permission, his towering frame...