Her phone buzzes like a drilling machine through my ears. I glance at her and she's wasted in my arms, her head on my chest. For how long have I dozed off? I sigh. Still bright outside. My watch reads 2:10 am. Funny how time flies when I'm with her.

"Mia," I call her.

"Hmm." Her warm breasts flatten over my chest as she stirs in her sleep.

Good grief. Smiling, I stretch my arm to reach the nightstand. A few seconds later I clutch her mobile to check on the caller.

"Detective Douche." I frown, glancing at her again. "He's the one calling."

"Detective Douche?" She comes around with a whole deal of effort. Tousled hair and heavy eyelids, she looks cute and spent. "Oh shit, yes. Detective Smith." She finally wakes.

"Smith? He's Detective Douche now?" I hand the phone and she quickly answers with a smile thrown my way. "Does he know that?" I search for my clothes the minute she sits up.

"He doesn't need to," she replies while answering the call.

"Poor him."

She chuckles.

"Hey, Detective." It's as if she's been waiting for his call since forever. "Yes. Um, no? Do I have to?" she mumbles after a while, talking to him. I frown when her eyes widen. "Okay, lemmi see."

Phone thrown away, she breezes out of the bed and grabs her T-shirt dress.

"What's wrong?" I zip my jeans.

"I need to watch the news," she says urgently.

We both head to the living room and the large HDTV flashes on.

BREAKING NEWS: Kingston Group continues to make headlines. Another money laundering activity reported. Suspicious engagement in the Dark Pool Trading and Export of massive artifacts worth billions of dollars. . .

A quick footage of two forty feet containers carrying wrapped sculptures and paintings, a few exposed for physical verification.

And then Patrick Kingston is swamped with reporters as he scampers off his Rolls Royce right outside the Kingston House, his eyes struck with mild rage.

"Finally," Mia mutters and her sly grin tells me she may probably be responsible for this.

She presses a button and changes the channel.

"On the line we have the chairman of The U.S Security and Exchange Commission, and maybe he can tell us more about this Dark Pool Trading and its effect on the capital market," says the lady announcer in a white suit.

We keep watching the interview and I think it's the talk of the town now. Good riddance, Kingston.

"I'm going to shower. You coming?" Mia asks rather jubilantly, her sassy brown eyes brighter and more glowing now.

She looks suddenly invigorated as if she wasn't the one claiming to be sick.

"You have anything to say about this?" I ask her.

"Me? Nothing."

"C'mon, Mia, I thought we had a truce that we're going to-"

"Oh, aren't you doing a very good job honoring our truce, baby?" she interrupts while closing the distance between us, smiling her very salacious smile. "But well . . . This happened way before we had the little pact that you don't really care about, so chill." Arms around my neck, she tries to kiss me but I hold her back.

"You know he won't sit still, Mia," I seethe. "He's going to react and God knows what he'll do next!"

"I know and I'm ready for it. This is just the beginning, Red, we're already in a war now," she replies simply. "All he has to do is let me go, if not, one of us has to die for this war to end. And I'd rather die than serving him."

I grip her shoulders tightly, lowering my stance to look her straight in the eyes. "Stop saying that, and quit doing this! Fuck, Mia, I know you're crazy enough to do anything but think about your safety, and the baby's."

Her face pales when I press her pregnancy issue. But after a breath she says, "I don't expect anyone to understand me, but I'm doing everything for this baby in my womb. I'll do anything, Red, to make sure I'm free to raise my child without threats."

"God! Fuck!" I ransack my head for anything to tell her but I'm suddenly blank. "Don't do anything like this without telling me at the very least! Please, Mia!"

"Really?" She laughs so tightly as if I'm ranting bullshit.

"I mean it, damn it!"

"Me, too, Red! Me too. If you start telling me everything you do behind my back, I'll also confide in you. Unless otherwise, let's all do what we can do to survive. And also, don't worry too much, because I may be crazy but I do know when to stop. And mostly, I know Patrick Kingston more than you and your FBI pals ever could. Now, are you coming with me or not? To shower, I mean."

"No, I'll wait for you here," I reply crossly.

"Suit yourself." She walks away and my crinkled eyes stalk her until she disappears.

"What should I do with you, dammit! God, she drives me nuts!" I sigh, shifting attention to the TV.

Marlow calls, asking if I've seen the news. The artifact containers and money trucks were in the FBI raid catalog. He asks if I had a hand on it and the answer is as clear as water.

"It was Mia Kingston. She wanted to screw her husband," I tell him flatly.

"So it's a war now? Interesting. But again you failed to see that coming, didn't you? And here I thought you're closer to her," Marlow sasses.

"I quit the bodyguard job and you know that."

"Did you, kid? Did you, really?"

"Ugh, what are you trying to say, Marlow?" I'm already messed up in the head, wondering how I'm gonna handle this crazed woman without tying her up in bed or something.

"That Mia Kingston knows a lot and you're wasting your time searching for the info elsewhere when she can give you all on a silver platter. Use your charms, kid. She's already bewitched by you after saving her pretty ass from being locked up. You're her hero, boy, own it!"

He's not telling me this crap again! And he certainly doesn't know Mia as much as he thinks he does.

"You're getting back to being her bodyguard. Create chaos if you have to, but you need that post back," Marlow snaps.

"You need it. Not me!" I recoil. But who am I kidding? I need her near for so many reasons now. Sadly I can't reject Marlow's demand. "Fine! I'll find a way in."

"Good. We're having a call tonight, and you should be there because you're gonna meet your partner. Exciting, isn't it?" he rumbles.

I roll my eyes. "Anything else?"

"Oh I might as well give you a long list, you bastard," he scorns. "I knew something was up when you suddenly didn't show up to the Janitor's party that night. You were onto a celebration of your own, weren't you? Where is Antonio Ramirez? Because sadly, out of the clear blue, the Janitor's leader disappeared into thin air the same moment you choose to rain check on something you'd kill to take part in."

"And so?" I grab the remote from the coffee table.

"Where is he?"

"Somewhere safe. But he's useless so I'll hand him over in a few hours," I reply while checking other interesting channels.

"I knew it! God, they say you shouldn't trust a marine unless you're in the same battalion. So you got something out of him?"

"Nothing solid. It was a contract job and all payments were made in cash. It's like a clean hit and run."

"So no info on who hired them?"

"It was a woman. They only talked on the phone." I head toward the wall of photos right above a wooden console.

"That's an interesting twist. A woman? Who could it be?"

"Not sure, but it leads to Cora Mitchell-one of Kingston's top assets who's probably the engine behind the whole DNA and fingerprints alteration as her secret hobby." I focus on the photos.

Kenna and her ex husband. Funny that she still has everything intact despite the separation. Wedding smiles. They looked great together, like a really happy couple. And one in France under the Eiffel. Romantic. What's with ladies and Paris? I'm sure it was her idea.

I hold a frame of her husband's portrait. A very smart negro in a black suit.

Christian Cage is said to be from a very influential family of judges and lawyers for generations. Crooked but deceivingly benevolent. The Cage law firm is very reputable in Portland, and they have a solid relationship with the Kingston Group. But he chose to be a public defender.

Intriguing fella.

"We'll talk later about Cora Mitchell. Now bring Ramirez over before they label you a traitor for acting on your own. And this better be the last time, Red," Marlow warns.

I place the frame back, hardly paying attention to him and his grand protocols. "Okay, later." I hang up.

I know Patrick Kingston better than you and your FBI pals. Mia's words hit back and I think Marlow is right. Time to put feelings at bay and do what really matters. But she's not an easy target as he probably believes. If I need information, she's gonna demand leverage.

A good quid pro quo.

"Now I'm starving." She's back from her shower, looking garish in a bright red loose top and white hot pants, hair tied up neatly. "Good. You're still here to lecture me." She heads straight toward the kitchen.

"How did you expose Patrick's deals?" I ask from the couch.

"Shipment schedule and manifest, of course. How else?" She rolls her sleeves.

"It's a black merchandise, Mia. It's almost a contraband so I'm sure you couldn't have access to such information." I get up and follow her.

"Right. That means I do have my ways and you should quit underestimating me," she replies before turning around to grab an aluminum pot from the stove.

I stop right behind her, and her back rests against my chest. Spicy aroma of chicken soup flies around. I wrap her in my arms and her body relaxes.

"If you think this cheap trick's gonna work then you're sadly mistaken," she murmurs smoothly when I kiss her shoulder edge.

I huff a laugh. "It wasn't really my intention. I just felt like holding my stubborn babymama."

Now she's the one laughing so delightfully. "Babymama? God, that takes me so back in time. You still remember the tavern on our way to Astoria?"

"Of course I do." And all the things we did back there.

Jesus Christ, she was irresistible. She broke down my walls and the first time taking her was like a dream come true. And now I need more than a liaison with her.

I need her to be legally mine.

"Ah." She sighs heavily. "I wish I could rewind those two days."

She slowly turns around and our eyes meet. Angst gone, she looks lovely. My mouth takes hers into a slow and deep kiss as a reminder that I can't stay mad at her for too long, and neither can she.

"Don't ask me not to worry about you," I whisper.

"I know," she replies softly. "I want you to be that place I could run into, Red, not away from. So try to understand that all I need is for us to be a team, and not for me to depend on you to protect me against all dangers in the world, 'cause that's impossible."

Can she never argue?

"And so what do you want me to do? Sit and watch you making dangerous moves that can harm you and my child?" I can't do that.

"I want you to not see me as a woman only, but rather as your partner," she answers confidently. "The life we have doesn't give us the good old tale of luxury that a man is the sole protector. I can protect you, too, if you let me. We can be a team and together we can win this war. I want to go to Arkansas with you and I dreamed of it just an hour ago." She sounds excited, eyes brimming.

I squint my eyes because she's more persuasive than the devil himself.

"Okay," I respond at last. Time to play it right. "Luca will fetch you tomorrow and we'll meet at his place. I'll tell you all I know about Anne's murder."

"In exchange for what?" she asks smartly. I smirk. "What? You think I don't know that there's something you're holding whenever you look at me? The question you desperately want to ask me, but you're wondering if it'll be alright or not since you're overbearing protective instincts won't allow you to?"

Yeah, she can see right through me, can't she? She's fucking right.

"In exchange, you're gonna tell me everything you know about the X-File," I answer.

Her eyes widen. "The X-File?"

"Yes. It's the main reason I'm here, Mia, and I have a gut feeling that you know something crucial about it."

Her breath shakes. Bullseye. She does know something.

Escaping my hold, she slowly says, "I heard stories about it. But it doesn't mean they're real." She turns around and flicks the stove on to heat the soup.

Evasive little one.

"What have you heard?" I choose not to press too hard.

"The scandals involved, both political and economical. And the fact that the Kingston Group is one of the top listed players, nothing more." She strides around, searching for something from the cabinet.

I edge back and lean against the island, crossing my arms on the chest. Clearly she is either lying to me, or telling only half the truth. But why? Why do I feel like she knows something solid but she doesn't want to tell me?

"If you really want us to be a team, we're gonna have to trust each other more, Mia," I tell her. She stops moving. "If you're telling me the whole truth right now, fine. But you are not, I don't think-"

"I do know some things," she says briskly, her gaze back on mine.

It worked!

"What things?" I try not to rush her.

She pulls in a deep breath, hesitation slowing her reply. But eventually she says, "I'll tell you what I know tomorrow when we meet. I want to make sure I'm part of your investigation first. It's important."

I stifle a laugh. She's such a knucklehead.

"Okay, let's do that." I have no other option but to team up with someone I want to protect at all costs.

Maybe this is better. That way I can closely keep my eyes on her.

"Patrick is calling," she snaps, eyes fixed on her phone.

"You're not answering it, Mia."

"And miss all the fun? No way. I live to see him suffer now." Saying this, she picks his call.