ELARA.

My mouth went dry.

He was still standing between my thighs, hand under the shirt, fingers resting against the mess he’d left inside me like it belonged there. Waiting. Patient in the way only dangerous men could be.

“I used to work for the same people Lina did,” I said.

His entire body went still.

The fingers between my legs didn’t move, but the air around us changed. Turned sharper. Colder.

“Explain.”

“Not as a dancer. Not as a plant.” My voice came out thinner than I wanted. “I did numbers. Cleaned money. Moved files. Small things. I quit six months ago when I realized how deep it went....