The morning light filtered through the windows of my study, casting long shadows over the polished mahogany desk. A small manila folder sat in front of me, its edges crisp and its contents meticulously organized. Two days had passed since I’d met Angel, and the lingering impression of her hadn’t faded.
That alone was enough to set me on edge.
I didn’t get distracted. Not by women, not by chance encounters. My world didn’t allow for it. But something about her had stayed with me—the way she moved, the sound of her voice, the warmth in her smile.
Luca stepped into the room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored jacket. “Here’s what we found,” he said, nodding toward the folder. “She’s clean. No connections to anything that could be a threat.”
“That’s a rarity,” I said, pickin
