He squinted as sunlight hit his face, rubbing his eyes. Bram gripped his head. What the hell kind of dream was that? he muttered. He grabbed the teacup, took a whiff, and cursed under his breath. Not a dream, then. The lingering scent of a woman hit him. Definitely a setup, he hadn’t asked for any of this. Bram focused, trying to recall her words, then it hit him: the clicks. A camera. s**t, no, no, no. He snatched his phone and dialed Dahlia. Glancing at the monitors, she wasn’t home. He cursed again, storming off to shower and get dressed.
Chicago, the day of the gala
Hunter leaned in, his lips brushing her neck. “God, Dahlia, you’re irresistible.” Lupin stepped up behind her, his mouth grazing her shoulder.
She spun around, wrapping her arms around Lupin.
“Missed you,” he murmured,
