Corden

An hour before I was supposed to meet with Lincoln for our monthly financial meeting for Nash Enterprises, I decided to stop by Carmen's apartment to drop off some breakfast.

I'm so far out of my comfort zone that it's almost comical, but I can't help the hold she has over me. I can't stop fantasizing about our night together four days ago, nor do I want to.

I've never been this interested in anyone before. Never been tempted to mix business and pleasure, yet here I am, knocking on her door because I miss her.

"I told you to go away," she snaps.

My knuckles freeze on the door. "Um, it's Corden?"

It only takes five seconds before the lock twists, and her pretty face appears. Her hair is in one of those printed headwraps, and she's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.

Her hands instinctively reach up to fix her hair, which doesn't need fixing. "What are you doing here? I...I thought our business arrangement was tomorrow night?"

Business arrangement.

More like the stupidest fucking thing I've ever agreed to.

I get it. Carmen has inside connections at The Harbor as Hadari, so it would seem a lot less suspicious if we were seen there together, but knowing that a majority of the women being taken work for The Harbor makes me want Carmen to never step foot in there again, regardless of whether I'll be there watching her every move.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I step inside and say, "It is. I just... Well, I knew you were off from the flower shop today, so I thought I'd bring you breakfast."

Her eyes flick to the brown paper bag before a tiny grin appears on her lips. "Wow. I didn't realize you were such a cinnamon roll."

"What does that even mean?"

"You know, hard on the outside, soft on the inside. You're a softie at heart."

I scoff. That sounds utterly ridiculous when she knows what I do for a living. If anything, I'm a softie for her. Just her. No one else is capable of making me do things like this.

Her eyes light up at the arrangement of donuts inside, but I notice the bags and dark circles beneath them. "Who were you telling to go away when I got here?" I ask.

She waves a hand around as if it's nothing. "It's not important." But when she lifts her gaze to mine again, she must be able to tell I have no intentions of letting this go until I have an answer. It's the only explanation for why she huffs and says, "It's Archer, okay? He's been camping outside of my house for days now. He'll come over after his shift and apologize for hours. It's been...exhausting, to say the least."

Archer has been outside of her home like a lovesick puppy. He's been stalking her, and I'm just now hearing about this. It has the blood boiling beneath my skin, jealousy crawling its way ferociously to the surface. "What do you mean he's been camping outside? Did you call the police?"

She snorts. "You mean the police station he works for? Yeah, I'm sure they would have sided with me."

Good point.

"You could have called me," I suggest. "I would have handled it."

"I know you would have, but how you would have handled it is the problem. You're supposed to keep your alter ego under wraps, and so am I. Having you come over here would have resulted in him discovering way too much, and you know it. He's a broken-hearted fool, but he's still a cop."

As always, she's right; this is exactly why they say relationships can't be afforded in this profession. I would have come over here at three in the morning if she had called me, and I would have shown Archer the killer that hums beneath my skin. It's terrifying the lengths I would go to for her.

"At least one of us is level-headed in this situation," I reply.

She laughs and lifts a strawberry donut to her lips. The frosting smears, looking absolutely delectable against her dark skin, and there's nothing I want more than to lick it off of her myself. Hell, I'd love to put that frosting in places where the sun doesn't shine, and—

"You have a meeting to get to," she reminds me.

"Yeah, but right now, I'm determining whether or not it's worth attending when I have far better plans in mind."

"Plans you can follow through with later tonight."

I arch a brow. "Are you inviting me over?"

"Well, Riley is staying the night at Margo's, so I'll have the place to myself..."

I'm so weak when it comes to her. I can't resist pulling her into my arms and kissing those lips. She smiles into our kiss, moaning when I dart my tongue out to clean up the frosting as my hands travel down her back and squeeze the globes of her ass.

I fucking missed her.

I'm not ashamed to admit it.

"I'll come over around 8?"

She nods, breathless, when I gently bite her earlobe. "Wear this." She tugs on the tie of my suit, and all I can envision is tying her up with it—how her wrists would look bound to the bed in navy blue satin.

"Such a fucking tease," I growl. "I'm leaving before we get too caught up in this."

"But you'll bring the tie?"

I grin wickedly, glancing over my shoulder before I reach her door. "You're going to wish I hadn't, Hadari."

***

When I arrive at quarter to ten, Nash Enterprises is in full swing. Phones ring off the hook, and employees pass by me with stacks of papers and folders in their hands. It's so unlike how my father used to run things, but he didn't honestly care about this company. It was a means to an end, and Lincoln has taken over it with a passion I didn't realize he had for business. My brother thinks he's saving this company and carrying out my father's legacy, but little does he know it's not the legacy my father wanted. Not his true one, anyway.

I straighten my tie before I reach the glass doors, but as soon as my knuckles meet the glass, I'm infuriated at the sight of Archer speaking to my brother.

They're best friends from college, I understand, but I did not need to see him after I just found out he's been stalking my... Well, we haven't discussed labels. But she's a hell of a lot more than a friends-with-benefits. I know that.

Maybe that's why I push open the door before my brother can open it. Rage fuels me when I stride through the door, and Archer's head whips around like he can sense the power and hint of danger radiating from me. Maybe he can. He is a cop, after all.

Lincoln glances at his watch. "You're early."

Because I had to pry myself away from Carmen before I fucked her right on the counter, and looking at Archer's weasel little face, I wish I had. I wish her come was on my cock so I could tell him that. God, it's tempting, but Carmen was right about keeping my alter ego at bay. Archer isn't worth blowing my cover.

My eyes flick from Archer's to Lincoln's. "I didn't realize being early was a crime."

"Is there a problem?" Archer asks. He clears his throat, standing taller as if he'd ever be considered an actual threat to me. I'd break him in half in less than five seconds, and yeah, I need to keep my cover, but I can't and won't allow Carmen to lose sleep over this prick who keeps harassing her.

"Actually, there is. Stop waiting outside of Carmen's door every fucking night. You're a cop. It'd be a shame to have to file a report against one of the station's beloved officers."

Archer tilts his head to the side. "How do you know I've been hanging around there?"

"Does it matter?" I step closer to him, watching his throat work in a gulp before his brows furrow in confusion. Carmen is right. He's a cop at the end of the day, and he's trying to figure out why he feels so unsafe in my presence. He should feel unsafe, especially when it comes to messing with Carmen. "Stay away from her, and we won't have a problem anymore. Simple as that."

"And if I don't?"

Does this fucker have a death wish?

He's brave, I'll give him that, but before I can reply, Lincoln juts his hand between us. "Okay, the both of you are starting to cause a show. Go measure your dicks someplace else and get out. I'm not having a fight in my office."

But it's all too tempting to get the last word in, so with a cocky smile, I tilt my head at Archer and say, "Trust me when I say you don't want to find out, Arch. You better get going."

He scoffs. "You don't even know the truth."

How would I inflict pain on him?

I let myself imagine it for a brief moment to calm the fury burning me from the inside out. Would I cut off his fingers one by one for touching her? Would I cut his dick off for fucking her? Or, better yet, would I cut out his tongue for ever making her feel less than perfect?

I see the fear enter his eyes when I lean in closer to say, "Oh, but I do, and you're an absolute idiot for dumping her. He's got two seconds before I punch him in the face, Lincoln. Get him out of here."

Archer leaves before I can and slams the glass door behind him. It rattles the entire office, causing a bunch of heads to turn, but I could give two fucks. He got what he deserved, and he needs to be knocked off a peg or two from whatever high horse he's on. He thinks he's untouchable now because he's a cop? Thinks he can wait outside her door like a creep? He's got a rude awakening coming.

"What the hell was that about?" Lincoln asks.

I shrug as I fix my cuff links. "I don't like men who mistreat women."

"And Archer did something to Carmen?"

"He didn't do anything to her, but he said some fucked up shit that wasn't right."

"And you know this how?"

"At Mom's gala. I was dancing with her, and she told me about it."

"Are you dating her?" The question lingers in the air, his eyes narrowing in that scrutinizing way of his. He hasn't known me in a long time. Since Dad passed, I've kept him at arm's length, and with all the fucked up shit that's happened since then, I don't know who to trust anymore.

"I don't date anyone," I reply honestly. "But I'm not going to let him treat her like that. Or any woman for that matter." I'm supposed to convince my mother of a relationship, not Lincoln, but something tells me by the way his eyes widen that he's already called my bluff. I don't date anyone, but Carmen might be the exception.

"Rightttt," he hums, clearly not believing me.

Thankfully, a familiar face catches my eye on his desk. It's a picture of that piece of shit who harrassed Sienna in Los Angeles at Nash Enterprise's first rebrand launch. "That's Sienna's ex," I say, attempting to peer at the information gathered in the report.

Lincoln snatches it out of my grasp. "It's none of your business." The way his nostrils flare, I hate to find a piece of common ground between us, but the way he feels about Sienna? How protective he is over her? It's the same way I feel about Carmen. I know what it's like to feel helpless over keeping someone safe, so maybe that's why I offer a piece of myself to Lincoln that I should keep hidden.

"I might know some people that could help."

Lincoln bores his eyes into me. "What kind of people?"

"The kind you don't associate with. People who handle crimes in different ways than cops."

He rolls his eyes. "I don't need gang leaders or drug dealers from whatever club you attend in on this investigation. I'm not even supposed to have this file in the first place."

I inspect my nails as if his rejection doesn't sting. "Have it your way, then. Just thought I'd offer."

"As if you'd ever offer me help without needing a favor in return."

His insult strikes home, whether I want it to or not.

There was a time when we were best fucking friends who told each other everything. We'd have weekly football nights, and we'd get drunk off our asses during a game of UNO. Where one went, the other followed, and after Dad passed... After he bestowed his desire for revenge upon me to handle, no one questioned how distant I became. They chalked it up to his passing. Grief. Why would they blame my personality shift on anything else when, from an outsider's perspective, my father was a family-oriented, 9-5 businessman who played golf on the weekends?

But hearing my brother speak of me like this when I've done everything in my power to keep him safe, it hurts. It really fucking hurts.

"Right. Because I'm such a self-loving ass that I wouldn't want to help capture the man stalking the woman my brother is head over heels for. How could I forget?" With that, I spin around and head for the office where the meeting is being held and leave him behind.