{2 weeks earlier}

"Come on baby, come back, we can sleep in." Lucas wraps a warm hand around my arm, attempting to pull me back into the inviting cream sheets.

"Lucas, I have to go to work, I'm sorry." He lets out a sigh and drops my arm.

"Are you free tomorrow night?" I shake my head no, "I have plans. I'm sorry." I give him a long heated kiss, leaving a red imprint of my lipstick on his mouth before leaving.

If I'm going to be totally honest right now, I'm not really into Lucas. Despite his attractive ruffled light brown hair and his blue ocean eyes, I just couldn't make myself love him.

But as far as I know, A Hinkson isn't known for even having a heart, especially me.

I come from a long line of manipulating assholes. When we want something, we get it.

What did Lucas have that I wanted?

An alibi.

For every time a nosey or newbie cop asked me where I was, I'd say with Lucas, and like always, he'd cover for me. He was too interested in the sex to even ask me why the cops are looking for me.

The way he sees it, if he even questions me, I'm gone. And he can have his lonely apartment all to himself and his lazy ass. And he's right. So he plays it safe.
-
"Ms. Hinkson, you're a hard woman to get ahold of." Mr. Petroff straightens his tie.

"Indeed I am."

"Please, Have a seat." He gestures to the seat closest to his desk. I smile and sit down, taking in the environment.

The whole wall behind him was just one ginormous window, overlooking the whole city and giving a perfect view of their leading competitor, Larendale and Company.

"So what is it that you want?" I ask him, taking note that his nervous tick was tapping his fingers on his desk in a rhythmic tune.

"Straight to the point, I like you." He leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together under his chin, giving him the impression of being in deep thought.

"My son, Travis Petroff."

I make no indication that I recognize the name.

"I'd like you to follow him around, get information. Tap into his phone calls, check his emails, go through some fi-"

I cut him off.

"Get information. That's all I needed to know. I'm a professional Mr. Petroff, I don't need a chore list to know what I'm doing. Don't underestimate me, I'm different from anyone else you've ever worked with." I rise from my seat, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

"And what makes you different?" His thick eyebrows rise in question.

"I won't step down, even if it means putting a life on the line." I choose my words wittingly. He looks impressed, so I take that as my signal to leave.

"Ms. Hinkson?" I stop. "Yes?"

"Are you, perhaps related to a Hannah Hinkson?"

I'm lucky to be wearing a coat so he didn't see the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

"No Mr. Petroff, never heard of her before."

"Oh. Just someone I lost contact with."

"Well, I hope you find her." I head out the door as I attempt to swallow down any memories that were creeping their way to my rather cold heart.

It will stay cold.

And Hannah will stay hidden.