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***

The ride to wherever Corden lives is tiresome. We've been driving for what feels like an eternity, and yes, that statement could be dramatic considering it's likely been less than an hour, but it's not my fault the magnetic pull between us is excruciating to fight. I'm already exhausted from fighting off the attacker. Having to resist this connection between Corden and me, too, has my eyelids threatening to close.

We've left the city limits, so wherever Corden resides, it's not the Upper East Side, which presents a round of questions in itself. Why does he attend The Harbor so frequently? And why has he been in the city for three weekends in a row if he lives this far away?

Resting the side of my forehead against the cool glass of the window, Corden glances over at me before he clears his throat. "We're almost there," he reassures.

I nod as I watch the traffic pass by us in a blur of red and blue. I'm not sure what time it is, but it was midnight when my shift ended at the club. I've been up since eight in the morning since I had to work a shift at Blooms, so with each passing mile and bump in the road, it's like a lullaby for a damn baby.

"I don't want to bring more on you tonight than necessary, but there are some...rules you need to know before our arrival."

I lift my head off the glass. "Rules?"

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "My job comes with security, and with you coming here... You can't mention this address to anyone. Not a soul. Any information you learn in these four walls has to be kept strictly between us. If that's not something you're comfortable with, I'll figure something else out, but if you step foot into my home, you need to be prepared to keep the information to yourself."

"And if I don't keep the information to myself?"

His eyes are as hard as steel when he says, "Then you'll suffer the consequences."

Consequences? What, is he going to kill me? Would he put a bullet through my chest as easily as he did my attacker? My stomach rolls from either hunger or nerves, I can't tell. What I am fully aware of is the sticky situation I've gotten myself into. As much as it's tempting to tell him to turn this car around and bring me home, I can't risk Riley, Sienna, or anyone else who is important to me. I may not know Corden implicitly, but I don't believe he'd lie to me about people coming after those I love to get to him. Until we figure out a game plan to move forward, I'm doing this. I have no choice but to accept.

"What I work towards is more important than any potential connection, regardless of how...intriguing it may be," he continues. "I wouldn't have brought you here if I thought you weren't trustworthy. I've seen enough of your character to ensure your safety here, and all I ask is you keep your lips sealed about this location in return."

"You don't have to worry about me saying anything," I mutter. "I'm not a snitch. I just want to figure all of this out so I can go home and pretend none of this ever happened."

Corden blinks, that same, void expression on his face when the car comes to a stop. His driver opens the door for us, and my body sings in delight when Corden places his hand on my lower back, allowing me to exit first. I might have sighed if I hadn't been frozen in shock at the sight before me.

We're standing in front of an alley much like the one my attacker cornered me in. Trash litters the ground, puddles of liquid that may or may not be piss. It smells foul, but when I take a step back, Corden grasps my elbow to keep me in place. He brings his mouth down to my ear, causing all the hairs on my neck to stand on end. "I know you don't trust me but don't judge a book by its cover, okay? Follow me."

I do so wordlessly, allowing him to guide me in the dark to avoid the puddles until we reach a door beside a dumpster. It's nothing special, and it looks worn down, about ready to fall off its hinges. However, when Corden wretches the door open, it reveals a hallway lined with wall lamps that cast a golden glow.

"What in the fuck?" I whisper.

Corden strides forward until the door shuts behind us, and at the end of the hallway is another steel door. It gives the same impression as the first one, but this time, a keypad sits beside it. My body is numb as Corden enters a code in, and then proceeds to place his thumb on a scanner. Green light flares before a ping has the sound of a lock clicking.

"Welcome to my home," Corden says in a sultry, deep voice that has me weak in the knees.

He pushes the door open, revealing...

Holy shit.

I suspect we're in an abandoned warehouse judging by the height of the ceilings, but it doesn't look abandoned. Freshly painted walls and luxurious chandeliers drape from the ceiling to make the windowless space feel brighter. Ornate rugs and lavish furniture are cast throughout the vast space,  and I'm utterly speechless, my eyes bouncing from one thing to the next before I find myself in a kitchen on the left side of the layout.

Stainless steel appliances and granite countertops greet me. This place is too clean. There's no life, no sense of living. If I were to swipe my finger on the counter, I wouldn't doubt it'd be spotless. Then again, I wonder how often Corden truly visits. Maybe he stays in the city more than he stays here.

"Are you hungry?" He opens the fridge, and to my dismay, it's filled with things to eat. Perhaps he has a cleaning lady to keep this space so clean. "I can put in a frozen pizza?"

The sudden grumbling of my stomach responds for me. Corden grabs the things he needs and sets the timer on the stove, jerking his head to a modern staircase in the center of the large, open floor plan. "I'll show you to your room so you can clean up before we eat."

I'm almost offended, but when he points down to my sweatsuit, which is splattered in blood, I snap my mouth shut and follow him into the room. It gives the same vibe as the rest of the house. Clean, well-maintained, white floors and artwork that likely cost more than my salary at Blooms. "There's an attached bathroom through that door," he says. "Leave your sweatsuit on the floor. I hope you weren't attached to it, because I'll need to dispose of it."

"The sweatsuit isn't important, but what will I—" My gaze snags on my duffel bag perched on the bed. I thought I lost in the alley when I fell. "Your driver?" I assume.

Corden nods.

"I only have my work clothes in there," I admit.

Heat flashes in his eyes for a millisecond before he composes himself and says, "Although I'd have no complaints with that attire, I imagine you want to be more comfortable. I can loan you something of mine to wear."

"Yes. Please."

In an instant, he's gone, leaving me alone in the room. I quickly get undressed, leaving my bloodied clothing where he instructed, and head into the bathroom to shower. I'm not surprised that it's modern and sleek. A huge tiled shower with multiple spouts is calling my name. While I wait for it to warm up, I cringe in the mirror when I see my reflection. My braids are frizzy, and my neck is swollen and feels as if it's on fire. Bags line my eyes from lack of sleep, the events of today weighing me down.

As much as I want to curl up into a ball and sob, that's never been who I am. I'm a strong, independent woman who can handle anything that comes her way. My attacker won't get the best of me. I won't let that man be the reason my body is trembling or the way my breathing seems to be getting quicker and shallower.

I can handle this.

Showering in record time, I grab a fluffy white towel off the rack to wrap around my body and pad barefoot into the bedroom, where a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants lay neatly folded on the comforter. As expected, the sweatpants are too big, so I settle with just the t-shirt since it's long enough, falling almost to my knees before I make my way to the kitchen.

When I near the landing, whispers echo from downstairs due to the high ceilings.

"What do you mean you brought her here?" A random, deep voice carries its way up to me. "Do you know the implications of what this could do to this operation if she tells someone?"

"Of course, I know that," Corden sneers. "What did you want me to do? Leave a random woman defenseless and alone?"

"She seemed to handle the situation just fine," the man responds.

A grin tugs at my lips.

"You know she's on his radar now, Delano. If I let her go home, not only would she be targeted, but so would her family and anyone else she cares about."

"And since when has that stopped you?" The voice I now assume belongs to Delano counters. "You've stumbled upon hundreds of women who need your help, and none of them have been brought here. The one place your father has tried to keep under wraps for more than a decade. What makes her privy to the inside?"

It's probably smart if I remain on the landing, but I refuse to let Delano believe I'm some snitch who's going to run and tell the first person I see. I want nothing to do with either of them and whatever operation they have going on. The sooner I can leave here, the better.

Plus, I'm fucking starving, and I really want pizza.

My footsteps are quiet on the stairs since I'm barefoot, so they don't notice when I stride into the kitchen as if I wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation. I clear my throat, startling them.

Delano's hand flies to the waistband of his jeans when he whirls to discover the source of the noise. His brooding expression vanishes from his face, and an expressionless mask oddly similar to Corden's falls into place instead. He scans me from head to toe, dragging his eyes back up not in a creepy way, but as if he's analyzing me. Deciphering. Trying to figure out if I'm worth his time to speak to.

Then, he cracks a grin and says, "Ah. Now I get it."

"Later," Corden hisses through gritted teeth. He seems to have showered too, his blonde wet hair now falling to the tips of his shoulders. If it weren't for Delano's six-three, bulky presence taking up the majority of the kitchen, I would have become breathless from Corden's stare. He rakes his eyes down my exposed thighs, as I'm in nothing but his t-shirt. There were no undergarments for me to wear, and almost as if he suddenly realizes that his features turn feral.

I've never been so conflicted given the circumstances I'm in. I shouldn't want him to shove me against that fridge and fuck the life out of me, but my hormones are betraying me. I'd blame it on the events of today for the nasty thoughts coursing through me, but that wouldn't explain all the other nasty encounters we seem to find ourselves in.

"Is the pizza done?" I ask.

Corden nods and slides a plate across the island. I plop my ass down on one of the barstools, ignoring Delano's curious stare, and get to work on the pizza. The cheesy goodness makes me moan, and Corden hisses under his breath before he blinks up at the ceiling.

"Interesting, indeed," Delano muses. The look Corden gives him seems to shut him up, and with a mocking bow at the waist, he flashes me another grin. "It was a pleasure. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other soon." He turns to Corden once more, the joking, playful attitude disappearing. "We'll discuss the information I found at some point tomorrow."

When we're alone in the kitchen, Corden grabs my empty plate and places another slice on it. "I can still hear your stomach grumbling," he answers before I can ask. Then, in a strained voice, he adds, "Were my sweatpants not to your liking?"

"They didn't fit," I reply between bites of cheese. "Too big."

"Mmm." Corden watches me eat the slice of pizza, completely transfixed. I hate how my body responds to him. My thighs shouldn't be parting on the barstool, but they have a mind of their own.

Even though it's not the truth, I blame it on the attack tonight when I bring my thumb to my mouth and slowly lick the sauce off. I blame it on the rush of adrenaline when I keep my eyes focused on his, purposely slurping with my spit to ensure the sauce is completely gone.

Corden doesn't seem like the type to enjoy being toyed with, and my instincts are correct. His eyes darken into the unruly, messy version I saw in the alley, and that knowledge doesn't help my hormones calm down whatsoever. "I'd stop while you're ahead, Hadari."

I tilt my head to the side, studying him. "Or what?"

He closes the distance between us, stealing my breath as he towers over me. My pussy is throbbing when he grips my chin and lifts my eyes to his. "Or you'll find my cock in your mouth. Don't tease me." It's supposed to be a warning, but the shrill pleasure it sends down my spine is alarming. I want the distraction. I want Corden to fuck me until the feeling of my attacker's hands around my throat doesn't linger anymore. Until I'm coming so hard around his cock that I'll finally be able to take a deep breath for the first time tonight.

Without breaking eye contact, I give him a flirtatious smile and bat my eyelashes. "And if I want your cock in my mouth? What will you do then?"

His hand wraps around the nape of my neck, but he seems to remember the injury, immediately placing it back down at his side. "If this were any other circumstance, I'd force you to your knees, Hadari, so you could do just that. I'd love nothing more than to know what your hot, wet mouth feels like wrapped around me."

My eyes widen just a fraction. "You're saying no?"

He rakes a hand through his hair. "A lot has happened tonight, and I... I don't get attached to anyone for a reason."

"Sucking you off isn't forming an attachment, Corden."

"To you."

Never, in all my twenty-eight years of life, has anyone denied my advances. I've never felt so mortified as I shrink back against the barstool, Corden's grip tightening on my chin. I don't understand it. He's staring at me as if he wants nothing more than for me to sink to my knees, so why the sudden change of heart? He would have allowed me to do it had we been in the Red Room, so what's the difference now?

"I'll walk you back to the guest room," he says. "I would advise against trying to leave in the middle of the night. Cameras plague this place, and until we have everything figured out, Delano won't let you go far."

I startle at that. "Are you saying I'm a prisoner?"

"No, but until Delano is certain you aren't working for someone else, he'll find you and drag you back in for questioning for leaving, and you'll prefer to deal with him here as a guest rather than a fugitive."

I scoff. "A fugitive. Come on, Corden. You know as well as I do I'm not working for anyone else."

He shrugs. "Delano is thorough and likely already doing a background check."

"A background check?" I fly out of the barstool to my feet. "There is no reason for a background check. I don't want you to know my real name. Our business lives at the club are supposed to remain separate for a reason. Confidentiality."

Corden studies me in an unnerving way. "If you'd prefer for me not to know, I'll respect that, but if he finds anything of note, he'll share it with me." I hold my breath when a hand of his lands on my waist. "Tell me, Hadari, what did you mean earlier in the car when you said you wanted to pretend this never happened when you left here? Were you speaking of the incident in the alley, or all of it?"

"All of what?" I reply.

"This. Us. The Red Room, the bar... After all you've experienced, tonight included, do you wish we never met?"

"That's a loaded question. I..." Would I? Would I change meeting Corden?

I wouldn't want to change the intimacy we've shared, however fleeting it might have been. In those moments, I felt like the sexiest woman in the world, capable of accomplishing anything. He instilled a sense of confidence I've never had before and awakened parts of me I didn't realize existed.

But the repercussions of his job aren't to be ignored. I'll never be fully trusted enough to be let in on what he truly does, which means I would never be able to fully trust him. Speaking with him... Dancing for him... All of it threatens us forming an attachment he's afraid of, and for good reason. Everyone I love could be at risk if I associate with him.

It almost makes me feel stupid for offering to sink to my knees only minutes ago.

Corden scans my eyes, finding my answer. His hand falls from my waist and he takes a large step back before he clears his throat. "I figured as much, and I can't fault you for it. I'll grant your wish, Hadari. Honestly, it's probably for the best I lay low for the time being from The Harbor now that you're on his radar. You... You don't have to accept it, but I'd like to offer security to watch over things for a few weeks until they calm down. They'll be discreet, so you'll never see them, and I'll even request they don't report back to me. They will only be there to keep you safe. This way, we can go our separate ways, and I promise you'll never see me again."

A rare burning enters my eyes, but I furiously blink it away. I refuse to cry in front of him, regardless if it feels like my heart is being ripped from my chest. I have no reason to feel this way. I hardly know anything about him, and he hardly knows me. I don't know who he truly is just as he doesn't even know my real name. Parting ways is for the best, but why does it feel so wrong? This option means my family and friends are safe. It means I will be safe.

I need to push whatever feelings I think I have for him to the side and start thinking rationally. After today, I'll never see Corden again, and although it hurts profusely right now, I'll eventually learn to be okay with it.

"I accept your offer," I respond in a choked whisper. "Thank you."

"Good." His tone is clipped. Distant. "I'll get you an ice pack and walk you back to the guest room now."