My driver looks neat in a black suit today, a very white shirt shining from beneath. How smart, Billie boy! I smile indulgently as he opens the Lexus door for my mom, ready to take us for the house hunt tour.

I clack my heels over and grab the other door without bothering him with the honors. "Good morning, Bill. How is your family?" I ask him as I clamber into the car.

"Morning, ma'am. They're all great, thanks." He sounds vibrant, his face painted with pure joy.

Such a lovely day for everyone.

Sighing deeply, I inhale the scent of crispy after-rain air mingled with the fall foliage on the wet ground, a reminder of the life cycle. Sophie stares at me, looking ever gorgeous in navy slacks, white blazer, and black heels.

That's my mom.

"You seem happy today," she whispers, fully aware that I had a long phone call last night with Red.

And slept like a baby afterwards.

"Well. I've decided to stop being a spoilsport and enjoy life. Thanks for coming with me, Mom. Really." I could use her help with the house pick.

"It's not like I have anything better to do, but you're welcome," she remarks.

My phone buzzes as Bill drives toward N Evergreen Ave. It's Dana Rodriguez, the realtor. She's already at the first place she's found for me. Excitement runs through me at the thought. As much as I feel at home with Kenna, it's still not okay. I want my own home.

Through the mild traffic, Bill outmaneuvers the dull Portland drivers and speeds up to the Pearl district.

Moments later we arrive at a certain townhouse in the same neighborhood Derek Kingston lives in. How ironic! Just the location becomes a turn off, and even so when I realize it's a huge family home with a three-car garage and right near the main road.

"Not your scene?" Dana asks with a tiny smile. She's a beautiful biracial woman with the charms of a real saleswoman.

Very sharp. Very calculative.

"At all," I answer truthfully. "I prefer somewhere more private and . . . comfortable."

The second house turns a bit shabby for my taste, and the third too boring despite being classy and in a good location. It drags me back to the mansion I once shared with my husband and I hate the feeling.

"Okay, let's see," Dana mutters as we take a walk back to the car. "I think you don't really like the whole idea of having a house, am I wrong? It happens. Everyone has their own preference and from what I can see, you need a real change."

I smother a laugh, for it feels like I'm suddenly an open book.

"Yes. I want something different, and no more big houses," I answer. "I want a condo or just a flat. Something for me, not for anyone else."

And certainly not for a married life.

"Then the penthouse should be more of your type, I guess. And . . . Lucky you, I happen to know just the place. It's a newly renovated building downtown, but I can guarantee you the best view in the city," Dana suggests.

"Great. What are we waiting for?" I urge, and once again we all buckle up inside the Lexus.

I never fancied living in the heart of Portland but I'll be lying if I deny the beauty of this penthouse. I look at mom and her eyes bear the same glint of approval as she checks the wide kitchen, as though it's the only thing she cares about.

Well, probably it is. She's Sophie.

Although I can see the bustling city through the wide floor-to-ceiling window, I still can't gather any sound coming from the outside. Soundproof, very modern and slick that even the light system is motion sensitive depending on personal settings.

"Oh, I think like this," I breathe, taking the stairs toward the second floor where the master and extra bedroom are. "Three bedrooms, you say?"

"Yeah, one downstairs. You get the bonus of a study room, big enough to be anything you want it to be," she replies, walking right beside me, mom following us unhurriedly. "Also, the walk-in closet and a decent bathroom that suits your bedroom taste perfectly. I took your priorities as mine while screening your options, Mia."

"I'll be the judge of that," I reply casually and we take a long moment touring every single room available.

The house is terrific. Spacious enough, still in a great condition as everything has just been remodeled into newness, clean white walls and floors combined with bold black details, the toilets and cabinets all shiny and neat, and large windows with high ventilation even without an AC on.

"I can see you live here, honey," Mom says when we step into the narrow terrace providing the metropolitan amenities.

I lean over the glass railing while staring at the azure sky commingled with Portland skyscrapers. Yeah, it feels right being up here, watching the world go by from the 15th floor.

I pull in a deep breath, the sun shining gently on my skin. "I like it, too. I just can't believe I've reached this point—buying a house to live on my own."

I close my eyes and laugh. Life can be so fucking unpredictable.

"Everything happens for a reason, Mia. Come on, let's get back in if you're sure about your decision now," Mom says suggestively, casting another glance at the living room where Dana and Bill are talking quietly. "And if you ask me, this house is a keeper because you no longer have those teetering eyes as before."

A soft chuckle escapes me. "You're right. I like the place and I don't have time to search further. I'll take it."

With Sophie's unlimited persuasion we manage to win a proper bargain. I've lost count of how many Spanish whispers she's brewed under her breath when Dana gave us the original price. It's hell expensive but from the little market research I've done, I believe it's not a squander.

So I finally get to buy another house.

When I reach the office, I dive straight into work at the studio, taking a break from the neverending paperwork. The production is going splendid so the only gruesome step left is preparing for the fashion show in three weeks. I want it to be the most successful one I've ever pulled in my entire career.

The memory of my previous collection still bruises my heart. I remember working so hard for it, just as we're doing now, only to end up losing everything just an hour before the launch. God, it still hurts. I hope this one goes well. It has to. My company's survival depends on this.

"Is that Anne's assistant?" I ask Leslie when I see a young woman carrying a large box with a bleak face across the corridor.

"Yeah. I heard the HR Manager told her to take a vacation until they find a post for her." Leslie hands me a box of bobby pins as I do the floral embroidery on the corset I'm working on.

"I don't trust her. It's best she goes away," I say with all honesty. "But send me her resume so I can recommend her somewhere else. Just not MK."

I don't want any connection with Anne, whether that lady used to be her accomplice or not.

"Okay, I will," Leslie replies happily. "Oh, that looks pretty already. No, it's sexy as hell! It comes with a kimono, right?" She's talking about the

"An exclusive package. No details for now—probably it'll be the closing piece. I have a few plans for it." I wink and smile. Leslie bounces excitedly. "Is my mom still chatting with Ines about San Pedro?" I ask, for it's been a while since they snuck into the kitchen for lunch.

Leslie chuckles. "I didn't know they both grew up in Spain. I guess they have a lot to talk about."

I just smile. I'm happy that she's found something interesting other than watching the disturbing designs of new generation's lingerie ideas. She thinks we're wearing less and less as years go by, even though she's proud of me.

Around three I ask Bill to take her home, since I have a personal detour to make. They both give me a condescending look as if I'm a little incorrigible teenager resembling a ticking bomb, as Red calls me now.

"Worry not, guys, I'm just going to work late. No need to overreact," I say.

"Then I'll take Mrs. Sophie home and fetch you later. Is that okay?" Bill offers.

"Nope. Take her home and you're free for the day. I'll grab a taxi later," I reply curtly and I need no discussion.

"Okay." Although very reluctantly, Mom agrees and off she leaves with Bill.

The minute they disappear, I haul a taxi that drops me several blocks away from MK. There's a small restaurant in which I waste a few minutes with a large milkshake, checking if there's anyone keeping tabs on my movements. I really feel like someone's out there.

It's probably paranoia but I know when I'm being watched.

"Excuse me," I call the waitress, a sassy bombshell looking like a cheerleader in pigtails and pompom.

"Yes?" She flashes a bright smile.

"I need to use the restroom. Can you show me, please?"

"Of course. This way," she utters.

Between the restroom area and the kitchen I manage to find the back exit leading to the array between old buildings. I turn left and sprout onto the main road. Mingled with vehicles and people, I quickly give Luca a call and his crooked station wagon pulls over about five minutes later.

"Wow, little ma'am. You surprise me each time we meet," he enthuses as I take my head scarf off, sitting on the front passenger seat. "Walking all the way incognito now, aren't we? I nearly didn't recognize you."

"Just shut up and drive, Luca." I sigh.

He rumbles a laugh. "Nice going, by the way. You really know how to ghost; I nearly lost you, dammit."

I frown. "Wait! It was you?"

"Yeah? We were supposed to meet, remember? Been waiting for hours and boom you were fleeing! For God's sake, what exactly do you do in that office of yours?" he complains while igniting his droning car.

"Oh wow!" I huff a laugh. "I mean, did I ask you to wait? I told you I'd call when I'm done, didn't I?"

"Yeah. But the orders I got were different," he grumbles, talking about Red and his outlandish concerns I believe.

I smile and ask, "So are you and Red friends or coworkers? Because I gather you're always running his errands. Which means, looking after me."

His thin lips stretch instantly into a smile that soon summons his voice into a loud laughter. "Let's say he's the CEO and I'm the general manager. That's pretty much understandable, right?"

I crinkle my nose at him. "Yeah. Right. Very informative."

He laughs again and I roll my eyes. One question leads to another, even though Luca is a definition of a corn artist whose sole expertise is hiding while showing. You ask about horses, he tells you pretty much about unicorns.

And in the end he simply asks me, "Do you want to try a killer burger? Trust me, you won't find anything like it from the posh restaurants you and your peers go to."

Now I scoff, frowning. "A burger? Where did that come from?"

"Your tummy, little ma'am. It just growled," he answers coolly, sliding through the suburbs as if he's searching for a specific neighborhood.

"No, it didn't!" I argue.

Did it? Because I think I'm hungry again.

"If you say so." He shrugs his shoulders.

From the suburbs we slowly enter a seemingly old industrial area, only the trace of the sweaty past remaining from the brick warehouses, the street art on the walls, and the 19th Century pavements. It's a bit nostalgic, sending me straight to New Orleans.

Home sweet home.

I hold my gaze outside as the car moves. Such a warm fuzzy feeling.

I see a small food stall selling baguettes, then a couple of old homies on the plastic chairs, and a dog right next to some young ladies on the staircase. I smile indulgently, recalling the best French coconut toasts my cousins and I would do anything to have daily.

Even if it meant stealing from the swear jar. And Sophie would flap.

"Everything okay?" Luca quizzes.

"Yeah. Is this where you live?"

"Yeah, almost there."

Luca's place is apparently a large two-story warehouse hidden behind the busy mechanical shop. No soul can pass through the entrance without the heavy duty men's approval. At first glance they look like ordinary workers, but the closer we get, their defense grows. It's like you mess with one guy and it becomes everyone's business.

"I'm with her, big boys, chill." In that charming accent of his, Luca soothes their inquisitive glares.

"And I'm certainly not here to get my car fixed," I blurt out, eyes on the brawny nigga holding a wrench.

To my surprise, a blast of laughter follows.

"Classy, Luca. Very classy," a shirtless Caucasian says, obviously insinuating something about my presence.

"Ain't no your league, man. Get back to work," Luca shoos them off with a toothy smile.

We walk through the dimly lit corridor, special thanks to the old Pepsi vending machine, probably just a fridge now.

A few steps later we're inside a what seems to be his boyish pad, a pool table and crude treadmill being the first thing I see when we stride in.

And of course, the man of the hour whose eyes regard mine instantly. He's on the phone, leaning over the rough wooden table on which a big computer seems to have had his attention.

I halt and smile, for he really looks like a hot CEO in office casual. Man! Just a pair of jeans and body-fit turtleneck, sleeves rolled up, but the effect is magnificent to say the least.

"I know a person who can decrypt it in a blink. I'll get back to you later," Red tells whoever's on the phone.

As he hangs up my legs push me toward him. He follows me and we collide like a steel and magnet, taking no second thought to display our intimacy. My arms around his neck, he automatically pins my waist and I demand my French kiss as though I'm lawfully entitled to it.

"Okay, seriously, guys? I wasn't ready for this!" Luca rumbles from behind us.

I pull back and giggle. But my attention remains with Red as I whisper, "Hi."

"Hi. You okay?" he replies, scanning my face carefully. I nod. "Good." He pecks my lips swiftly, a small smile on his lips.

Luca sighs heavily. "So, just a teeny tiny heads-up, should I expect to witness this more often?"

I choke a laugh. He knows about us!

Red glances at him and answers, "You probably should."

TWENTY-ONE

"So," starts Luca after recovering from the mild trauma. "Can I have just ten minutes before I share with you the juiciest news I've got?"

"What news?" Red lifts his distracted glance at us, standing a few steps farther while tapping on his mobile.

"I just said it, Bro. Juiciest," Luca replies.

"Um . . . You mean the latest news regarding the investigation?" I'm riveted, for that's the main reason I'm here despite the major disruption I'm mentally facing.

Working with Red's gonna be a whole new experience that I'm looking forward to for a number of reasons. He's already back on the computer, taking another call that's stealing most of his attention now.

"Yup." Luca grins. "Just ten minutes, okay? Got a small thing to fix. Make yourself at home."

"As long as you don't forget that killer burger you promised me." I slowly kick my heels, somehow feeling at home when my bare foot touches the floor. Before Luca could sass me, I quickly add, "Nope, my tummy is not growling. I'm just hungry now."

"What a pretty liar." He dashes off with a fit of laughter, and while at the door he simply yells, "Fifteen minutes then."

"Fine!" I return.

Back to Red I notice he's a bit broody today. A frown on his face, sighing over one of the two big computers on the wide table. He looks so engrossed after discarding his phone, seemingly oblivious of my presence. So I stride over and take a peek at whatever's keeping him busy.

It's certainly not a movie, or a document at the very least. I squint my eyes, trying to decipher the numerical slide of texts on the night-mode screen. With the living area being a bit dark from its blue paint on the walls, the sight of this reminds me of a game room.

"I'd really love to help you as you're scaring the hell out of me, but I figure I understand nothing here," I whisper, holding the back of his chair for support.

"Thanks," he says curtly.

I frown, standing straight. "Do I disturb you?"

Responsively he whirls his chair around and pulls me onto his lap so I sit down. I smile, encircling my arms around his neck. He sighs, staring at me now. Rightly so, he looks a bit disturbed.

"Things are not going well?" I quiz. "What is that?" I glance at the computer, then back at him.

"Let's say it's an IT thing," he replies tiredly while reclining back. "Just a message that needs to be translated. Luca will deal with it, so thanks for your concern, Mia Vera, and you're not disturbing me."

The name 'Mia Vera' coming from him still does things to me. Grow up, bitch! A tingle runs through my tummy and my insides quiver. I inhale softly, locking my head with his in a very gentle manner.

"We have like . . . thirteen minutes and perhaps we could use them wisely," I utter, my voice unintendedly coquettish.

A smirk quirk up his lips. "Doing what exactly?" he asks, his hands tightly rubbing my back from the waist upward, pressing me closer toward him.

I smile and whisper in his ear, "A lot can happen within thirteen minutes, sugar. You want to see?"

He laughs gently, but I can feel his breath thickening.

"I know what you're up to, Mia, but this is not the place to—" He pauses and grunts as I brush my lips against his neck, and slowly over his stern jawline. "Mia . . ."

"Shhhhh." I place my index across his lips, and my eyes devour his face with pure desire. "I don't care about the place and you know that. I always do what I want." At the corner of his mouth, I lay a very provoking kiss.

His lips stretch into a vicious grin. "The same applies to me. What do I do about that? I'm not going to fuck you here and there's nothing you can do to change that."

"Well, may the best player win." I wink, turning his breath into a vibrant laughter.

Yes, maybe we can't fuck here, but we can certainly play a little. Lately I just want to feel him close to me, even if we don't make love. As much as I desire his cock inside me, a little touch here and there can be surprisingly satisfying.

Hoisting myself up, I shift swiftly and straddle him, pressing right over his bulging cock. He sucks in a steady breath and I smile valiantly at him. There's a part of me that misses fooling around with him as if he's the man I'm dating—a boyfriend.

And I never had a proper boyfriend.

"You really don't know how to give up, do you?" He grins with a wicked touch.

"Never." Mouth on his, I rock my waist and grind over him slowly to the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Our breaths burn effortlessly, like a moth to a flame. I melt in his grip, his strong caress on my thighs as he skates his hands to bring the hem of my dress upward. Pleasure spikes like a mild sedation in my blood, building its effect little by little until my insides coils.

"God, Mia," he groans, tipping back his neck to let me kiss his throat, and the more he pants, the more my clit pulsates. "How many minutes left?" He mocks me.

"Eight? Nine? Don't you dare tell me to stop," I snap.

He laughs smoothly. "I don't respond well to threats, Madam."

"What to do then? I'm the boss and I love ordering," I respond with a heavy giggle, my breath thick and ragged.

"Well, I can fix that. I don't take orders either." He stoops and takes me up with him so easily as though I weigh nothing.

Wow! Strong men will always be hot. Before I make an utterance, he places me on the table and stands between my legs. I smile, staring at his ember eyes, so dark and mysterious, yet so luminous and candid. He runs a thumb over my bottom lip, making my eyes shut smoothly in response.

And then he slams his lips on mine. He hauls me closer, very closer to him until my breasts sag against his steel hard chest muscles. I pinch a moan, his tongue gliding in my mouth so powerfully, like he owns every bit of me without really claiming me.

I let him do as he pleases, driving me at his own pace, and my heart rate accelerates the more he kisses me.

When he pulls back he's panting, but I'm a mess as I can feel my pussy wet and throbbing for him. He smiles, gently pushing me back so I lean on my elbows. I pant so heavily, and without a warning he finagles his hand inside my underwear. When a finger glides over my clit, I yelp a startled moan.

"Red . . ." I look him in the eyes, barely holding his sight.

"How many minutes left?" he asks me bossily, taking his time assaulting me so smoothly my mouth hangs.

"Maybe six?" I breathe, my pupils dilated.

Fuck! It feels so good as he shoves a finger inside me, penetrating me, eyes on me.

"Hmm. Maybe they'll do after all," he replies and I fucking don't know what he's saying anymore.

A second finger of his slides into me, and my mouth widens. He smiles again, proudly. Eyes shut, I let the taste of ecstasy corrupt my mind, rendering my body to total submission. Damn! He strokes me in and out, then round and around, deeper, while leaning over, leveling to my ear.

"Shhh," he whispers. I shudder, flying my eyes open. "Don't make noise, baby." He grips my nape to anchor my body, proceeding well with his torture.

Ruthless bastard. I love him!

He doesn't quit despite the danger, knowing fully well that we probably have three minutes left if Luca is as punctual as I've gathered so far. But strangely the predicament sends a shrill of excitement, my kinky side fancying the peril, and the slut in me very aroused.

The idea of getting caught winds me up. I feel like a child poking my hand in a cookie jar before dinner. Exhilarated to the very inner core, my hips move as I thrust myself into Red's fingers, coiling up inside when he rubs my swollen clitoris.

My cries of pleasure are shut by his mouth reclaiming mine. I kiss him hungrily, holding him so tightly. Every muscle of my body tense when I feel that rapid thrill clenching my stomach tight, turning my breath quick and heavy.

"Fuuuuuck!" I press my thighs together and cling onto him like my life depends on it.

My body shatters into a vortex of pleasure when he adamantly pushes my legs apart and carries on with his mission, which takes me to a pinnacle that makes me gasp in shock

A bang on the door is followed by Luca's voice. "I'm back! Can I come in? No more surprise attacks, please, that's why I'm kindly asking."

"Holy shit!" I murmur, my head resting on Red's shoulder as if I'm floating in clouds.

"Fourteen minutes. Not bad, is it?" Red says, his impartial stare on the computer.

"Go away," I hiss.

He laughs arrogantly and says, "As you wish, Madam. But just for the records, who is the boss now?"

You, sexy bastard!

"I am. I'll always be," I snap.

Laughing more, he frees me and replies, "We can finish where we stopped later."

I flush at the thought. Later it is.

"Guys! I'm coming in!" Luca rumbles.

I goggle softly and yell, "Who's stopping you?"

When Luca strolls in I'm already on the chair, elegantly swinging around cross-legged. He throws me a cautious look. I smile, for I'm either an Oscar worthy actress or he's just great at hiding his thoughts.

"Everything okay?" he asks dubiously.

"Yup," I answer flatly.

"Where is Red?" He sounds like a teacher talking to an errant student.

"Probably in the bathroom. You brought the killer burger? I'm starving." I rise and he strides over, holding three khaki bags that he lifts in the air. "Oh, you're a lifesaver, Luca!"

"At least someone here has a good taste." He grins, eyes on Red who's retreating from the bathroom.

The cheeseburger becomes my immediate choice, surpassing the chicken and veggies. I chew the first bite and it's certainly murderous. Damn! I give Luca a thumbs up while pulling myself a seat, ready to hear the juicy news at last.

"So I kinda visited the infamous Kingston lab this morning, pretending to be a cop and asked Cora a few questions. I mean . . . The scary scientist lady," Luca says casually while scrapping the wrapper of his burger.

I sigh. "Again with Cora? Why are you guys so convinced that she's involved with Anne's murder? I honestly can't see any connection."

"Well, maybe because she's my college alumni, apparently, and I have heard some stories about her? I mean, she's a legend in MIT," Luca says. "She's smart, a genius I might add, and she majored in Genetic Engineering back then. She couldn't graduate but she was the best in her batch."

"Okay. And so?" I urge him.

I'm aware that Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a big league kind of college, but does that make her an evil genius or something simply because she schooled there?

"We have reasons to believe that she's the head of the Janitors," Red replies, his voice deeper than usual. Still on his feet, he leans on the table, facing me. "She faked a perfect murder evidence to incriminate her professor who also happened to be her stepfather."

"Why?" I breathe, my burger hanging in the air as I can neither eat nor put it down. "Why did she do that?"

"He . . . sexually assaulted her," Red answers, a tight frown on his face.

My stomach twists.

"Well, if that's the case then he kinda deserved that." I suck in a very long breath, recalling the pinch of a feeling I experienced when Patrick came violent on me. I brush it off. "And how come she's a scientist now? You said she couldn't graduate, right?"

"Not in Massachusetts, but she definitely did it out of America." Luca is on the line now. I stare at him in a heartbeat "She got an A-list lawyer who took her case and shut it off. A year later she got a sponsorship to Russia, took her major in Microbiology, and came back as the badass lab freak at the Kingston Pharmaceutical."

"And let me guess, it was Patrick Kingston who sponsored her, wasn't it?" I murmur with an acute smile.

Luca shrugs. "More like . . . The Kingston Group did."

"Whatever. So, what else is there aside from the fact that I nearly went to jail thanks to her?" I ask, trying my best to ignore the choking feeling of anger running through me.

"That's the juicy part!" Like a cue, Luca unfolds a laptop that's been abandoned under the pile of newspapers. "So I wiretapped Cora's phone . . ." His voice trails as he flashes the PC on.

"Okay. I believe that's illegal," I remark, and he shrugs diffidently. "And I love it!" I give my burger the attention it deserves as I wait for Luca to end the suspense.

"Well . . . Guess who she called as soon as I left?" He looks at us expectantly but none of us seems ready to play the guessing game. "Oh, come on! It was someone we all know! Can't you try to spice up things a little?"

"No!" Red and I say in perfect unison.

"Ugh, you're both boring!" he cries in his sweet accent. "Fine! It was Derek Kingston."

"I knew it!" I sit straighter, my curiosity piqued. "And what did they talk about?"

"It won't be any fun unless you hear it yourself, pretty madam. I swear y'all gonna freak out." With utter excitement, he presses a button to play an audio file.