Julia

My body ached in all the right ways, and the scent of fresh coffee teased its way into my senses. I rolled over with a small smile, reaching out to the empty space beside me. My fingers brushed over the creased sheets. Red must've gotten up an hour ago. Stretching, I slipped out of bed and shrugged into my robe.

My stomach growled, loud and unbothered, and I rubbed my hand over it. Food sounded like a good idea. I was sure Red had already eaten by now.

In the ensuite, I washed my face and pulled my hair up into a loose bun. When I made my way downstairs, I paused at the bottom step. Red was sitting at the kitchen counter, typing rapidly on his phone. His black hair was slicked back, and his jaw was tight as he read whatever had his attention. He was already dressed for work—which surprised me. We normally left together.

"Morning," I announced, walking in.

He looked up, and a slow smile curled across his face. "Morning, Tesoro."

"Coffee?" I asked, heading into the kitchen to pour myself a cup.

"Already had one," he replied without looking up.

I watched him for a beat. Something was off. "Everything okay, Red?"

"What?" His tone was sharp, his green eyes snapping to mine.

"You're tense this morning." I walked over and rested my hand on his shoulder.

He covered it with his, and I felt some of the tension bleed from his muscles. "Just a lot of shit to do today." He turned in his chair and tugged me closer.

My frown deepened. "I'm your secretary, remember? And unless I've completely forgotten how to do my job, we don't have anything booked this early. What's going on, Red?" This—this communication gap—was still one of our weak points. One I was desperate to fix.

"I'm dealing with it, amore mio." He let go of my hand and stood. Leaning in, he kissed me softly. I tasted the bitterness of coffee still on his lips. "Have a good day, sweetheart."

And just like that, he left.

I heard the front door open and close a moment later. I stood there, brows pinched, staring at the empty space he'd just occupied.

What the hell was that?

The office was already buzzing by the time I stepped off the elevator. Phones rang, heels clicked, and chatter echoed down the corridor. I could hear mine going off before I'd even reached my desk.

I rushed over, dropping my bag and jacket onto the chair before grabbing the receiver.

"Hello, Red Alfonsi's office."

"Good morning, Julia. We've got Williams and Collins here—the potential investor waiting for Red. Could you please direct him to the conference room?"

Swayer. Of course. The one Alfonsi brother I hadn't quite figured out how to handle.

"Yes, of course." I hung up and headed straight for Red's office.

But when I stepped inside, I was met with nothing but silence and an empty desk. He wasn't here.

My gut twisted.

He'd left before me this morning, I'd assumed he had something urgent he needed to do at the office. This wasn't like him. Not showing up? Not telling me? I hated the creeping sensation that he was hiding something from me again. 

And worse—I couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with him. Simon. The ghost who refused to stay buried. The court date was looming at the end of the month, but that didn't mean anything. 

I still had nightmares that he'd make bail, that he'd walk free. That I'd open a door one day and he'd be standing on the other side.

I shoved the thought down and turned on my heel, heading for the conference room.

"Mr. Alfonsi will be with you in a moment," I said as I entered. "Let's start the meeting without him."

I caught Swayer's eye and gave him the smallest nod, silently telling him to take over. He sat up straighter and turned toward the investor.

"So, you understand the risk and investment required—"

His voice faded behind me as I slipped out the door and made my way back to my desk. I picked up my phone and dialled security.

"Hey, Henry. Just wondering—did Mr. Alfonsi swipe in this morning?"

"Your husband, ma'am?"

I rolled my eyes and bit back the urge to scream. "No, your boss."

God, I hated when people called him that. It wasn't just irritating—it was infuriating. Mostly because... yeah, maybe I wanted to marry him. But I also wanted the romance. The story. The soft moments. 

This was my first real relationship. I wanted to enjoy it before the world tied it down with titles and expectations. So as much as I loved how sweet Red was and adorably possessive with his broadcasting of our non-existent titles. I just wanted time. 

"No ma'am," Henry said after a beat. "No record of him on the system today."

"Thanks." I hung up, trying not to slam the phone back into its cradle.

Where the fuck was he?

I returned to the conference room, my thoughts spiraling. I could barely focus on the meeting. Swayer caught my eye again and I gave him a slight shake of my head. Red was still MIA.

His jaw locked. Exactly the way Red's did when something pissed him off.

Still, he handled the rest of the meeting like a pro, and by the time the hour wrapped up, the investor had agreed to move forward with a partnership.

I stood and offered the gentleman my hand. "Thank you for your time, sir. I'll inform Red of the good news."

"It would be wonderful if we could all go for a round of drinks. Celebrate the partnership," he offered with a smile.

"Of course," I replied politely. "I'm sure we'll organise something."

He nodded. "I'll leave my number and details with your receptionist. Speak soon, Julia. Swayer."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Swayer turned on me.

"Where the hell is he, Jules? What is he playing at?"

I raised my hands in frustration. "If I knew where the hell he was, Swayer, I'd be with him!"

"He's not answering his phone. He hasn't been in all morning."

"You think I don't know that?" I snapped. "I've been trying to reach him, too. Security said he hasn't even swiped in."

Swayer ran a hand down his face, muttering a curse under his breath. "What the fuck is going on?"

I threw my hands up again, heart pounding. "That's exactly what I'd like to know."

*  *  *

Red

I sat in the booth, watching her.

Red curls, loose and bouncing with every laugh that left her wide, too-innocent mouth. She looked sweet. Harmless. The kind of woman who'd water her plants, smile at old ladies, and never hurt a fly.

But I knew better.

She was sitting across from Simon, and that alone had alarm bells ringing in my skull. It was enough to have me running a full background check before my coffee even cooled.

"What do you want to do?" Noah asked, watching me from the driver's seat of the BMW parked across the street.

Alice Manning. Twenty-seven. Three assault charges. Two for possession and distribution. One manslaughter. And somehow, she had enough spare change to bail Simon out of a federal holding cell?

Yeah. Bullshit.

"Keep an eye on both of them," I said, eyes still locked on her smile. "I want them tailed until the hearing."

The last thing I needed was Julia finding out that psychopath had been released. She'd only just started sleeping through the night without jolting awake in a cold sweat.

"Done."

Noah tapped into his encrypted comms and gave orders to two of our men to tail them quietly.

"I want everything, Noah. Financials, movement, affiliations—dig deep. And make sure Julia doesn't hear a word about this."

"Got it, boss."

I turned my head toward him. "What about the other issue?"

"Nothing definitive yet. But we did pull a partial fingerprint from the envelope. We've sent it off for analysis—if the bastard has a record, we'll know soon."

"Good. The second you get a name or an address, you call me. I want to be the one who pays them a visit." My jaw clenched. "They threatened her safety. They made it personal."

And that made them mine.

The lies were stacking, secrets building like pressure in a boiler. I hadn't told Julia about the delivery we'd received two weeks ago. Mostly because if she saw what was in that box, she'd unravel.

Fuck, I nearly did.

Thank God I'd been the one to open it. A plain, nondescript package—no return address. Inside? Hundreds of photos. All of Julia. All taken when she was alone. Unprotected. Unaware.

The final photo was the one that sent rage searing through my bloodstream: her on our back porch, sunbathing in nothing but a black bikini. Completely oblivious.

At the bottom of the pile, a note. Three words, written in block letters:

SHE IS MINE.

I didn't sleep that night. I paced the house like a rabid animal, checking every window, every lock, every fucking shadow. At first, I thought it had to be Simon—but the timeline didn't fit. He'd only been released that morning, and some of those photos were from over a week ago.

Whoever it was... they'd been close. Watching her. Breathing her air. That knowledge nearly drove me insane.

The car pulled up outside the office building.

I thanked the driver and stepped out just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. One look at the screen and my blood stirred.

Julia.

I answered. "Tesoro."

"Don't you Tesoro me, Red. Where the hell are you?" Her voice was sharp, pissed, and breathless. "Do you have any idea how unprofessional this is? You just fucking disappear mid-morning without informing anyone. We had a meeting! Swayer had to cover for you—no warning, no message, not even a call!"

I could practically hear her pacing.

"You could've at least had the decency to pick up the damn phone and tell me! What the hell is going on?"

My cock twitched. Her voice. That fire. Fuck, I loved it.

"Calm down, Tesoro. Everything is fine."

"That doesn't answer the question, Red. And don't you dare gaslight me. You're the one who keeps preaching about communication, and now here you are being a complete hypocrite."

My patience cracked. My jaw flexed.

I'd been waiting for the perfect excuse to bend her over my knee. This? This would do just fine.

"Are you done, Julia?" I asked, my voice low.

"Am I done? Am I done?!"

"Yes," I repeated calmly. "That is what I said."

"No. I am not fucking done, Red!"

"Good. Because you're coming with me."

A pause.

"What? You're here?"

"Yes," I said, already walking toward the elevator. "Now you have two options—you can come downstairs with all that attitude and rage... or I can come up there, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you down. Either way, you're coming with me."

"This is insane—"

"Julia." I cut her off, tone sharp. "Now."

I ended the call before she could argue and stepped into the elevator, heart thudding, cock aching. There was something about her fury—her chaos—that made me feral.

I didn't just want to fuck her.

I wanted to own every part of her.

The elevator doors opened.

There she was.

That beautiful scowl. That frustrated fire in her dark eyes. She stormed out, and I reached for her, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her into me.

I kissed her. Hard. Possessive.

Her lips softened beneath mine, and her body melted into me like she always did. The tension eased right out of her, just like I knew it would.

When I pulled back, she whispered, breathless, "Red... you don't get to use your mouth on me every time we fight."

But the bite was gone. Her voice came out more like a purr. And I swallowed it whole.

Good, I thought.

Because I didn't plan to use just my mouth.

I released her and guided her toward the car. Helped her in like a gentleman—one with a very filthy agenda—and climbed in beside her.

God, she smelled like arousal. That faint sweetness that drove me wild. I wanted to tear her open and bury my face between her thighs until she forgot her name.

"Where are we going?" she asked, voice husky.

"You'll see."

Her brow arched. "I can't leave the office for a midday booty call, Red. That's so unprofessional."

My hand slid up her thigh, and she stiffened beneath my touch. Fuck baby, you unravel me. I liked her squirming. "Exactly. Which is why we're leaving," I murmured. "Wouldn't want to be unprofessional in public."

My fingers grazed over the lace of her panties. She was already wet. She tried to shift away, but I held her firm.

"I'm still mad," she whispered.

"Good," I growled, lips brushing her ear. "You can use that anger to ride my cock, Tesoro."