Chapter 18
746 Words
Camille
Enrique’s touch had become something I craved more than I wanted to admit. It wasn’t just the heat—it was the way he held me like I was more than just a passing fling. Like he saw the storm in me and still wanted to stand in the rain.
But even as I sat across from him in the sleek quiet of his penthouse kitchen the next morning, coffee cradled in my hands and his hoodie drowning my frame, I couldn’t shake the feeling in my chest.
I was falling. And I wasn’t sure if it was into love… or into danger.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, staring down at the swirls in my mug.
He looked up from the tablet he was skimming through, his gaze sharpening instantly. “I’m listening.”
I hesitated. Not because I didn’t trust him—at this point, I trusted him more than anyone else—but because I knew once I spoke these words, there’d be no turning back.
“There’s something else Vivian’s hiding. I found a connection between her and a shell company. Payments. Under-the-table contracts. Fake consulting work.”
Enrique didn’t blink. “You have proof?”
“Not all of it yet. But I know where to find it. I just... I’ll need help accessing her internal server. That means breaking protocol.”
He stood and crossed the room, placing a hand on the counter beside me. “Camille, I’ve got an entire cyber investigation team under contract. You’re not doing this alone.”
“I started this alone.”
“And you don’t have to finish it that way.”
His voice was firm, eyes locked with mine. And that was the thing about Enrique—he didn’t just offer support. He *showed* up. No conditions. No doubts.
I set down the mug. “There’s more.”
He arched a brow.
“I think Vivian knows I’m building a case. And if she feels threatened enough… she’ll burn it all down to protect herself.”
Enrique’s jaw clenched. “Then we make sure we strike first.”
---
That afternoon, I met with HR again under the guise of a project update. Slipped them more details. Shared just enough to set off alarms. They wouldn’t know the full picture until it was too late for Vivian to run.
Back at my desk, an email pinged from an unknown address. The subject line made my stomach lurch:
"See You Soon, Beautiful."
The body of the email was empty. No attachments. No name. Just a single red lipstick kiss in a photo file.
My blood ran cold. That wasn’t Matt’s style.
No… this felt like *Vivian*.
A threat. A warning. A game.
I forwarded the email to my encrypted folder, then picked up my phone and texted Enrique:
> “She’s getting bolder. It’s starting.”
> Enrique: “Come to my office. Now.”
---
His office was all glass and shadow, overlooking the skyline like a king's throne room. But when I stepped inside, it wasn’t the view that took my breath.
It was him.
He closed the distance in three strides, wrapped a strong arm around my waist, and kissed me like I was the center of his storm.
“I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he whispered against my lips. “Not her. Not him. No one.”
His words curled around my ribs, dangerous and tender. His lips brushed the curve of my neck, and I melted into him, forgetting the fear—only for a moment.
I needed this. Him.
His mouth found mine again, hungrier now. And when his hands slid down to my thighs, lifting me onto the edge of his desk, I didn’t resist.
My fingers tangled in his shirt, tugging it free. His touch was fire. His eyes, feral. And when he pressed his forehead to mine, our breath mingling in the stillness, he murmured—
“You’re mine, Camille. I need you to remember that.”
“I do.”
He kissed me again, slower this time. Deep. Possessive. As if claiming every part of me.
And when it was over, when my body trembled and my pulse slowed, I knew something had changed.
We weren’t just lovers anymore.
We were partners in a war.
And the enemy was about to realize they had underestimated the wrong woman… and the wrong man standing beside her.
---
- Writer
