Mark
The kiss was still echoing through me when the phone rang again—louder this time, sharper, like it knew it would be answered whether I wanted it to be or not.
I pulled back slowly, regret heavy in my chest, and glanced at the screen. Harris. Again.
I already knew it wasn’t good.
Melody’s eyes searched my face, her body still angled toward mine, concern cutting through the softness of the moment. I lifted the phone, but before I answered, our gazes locked—and something shifted. This wasn’t just about duty anymore. This was about necessity.
I answered. “Talk to me.”
Harris didn’t waste time. His voice was steady, but there was an edge underneath it I rarely heard. “It’s worse than we thought. The Morettis didn’t just hit the shipment—they planned it. Luke was there. He’s injured.
