Maya noticed it the moment Damien stepped onto the deck—subtle, but there.
There was exhaustion in his eyes, a rawness edging his usually pristine appearance. His jaw bore the beginnings of a beard, his hair slightly longer, like he hadn’t had the time—or will—to shave for days…
But somehow… it didn’t make him look worn.
It made him look more dangerous.
More masculine.
More real.
The rest of the team began stepping forward to greet him and the man beside him. Polite nods, a few formal “Good morning, sirs,” echoing through the quiet salt air.
Damien gave the group a curt nod in acknowledgment—but his eyes never left the one person standing just in front of him.
Maya.
She swallowed down the nerves clawing at her throat and stepped forward, keeping her voice even.
“Good morning, Mr.
