THE MAN WHO WAS SENT TO KILL ME

Prologue

I still remember the exact moment I realized the man sitting across the street was not there by accident.

It was a Tuesday. Raining. The kind of rain that does not make noise, it just falls quietly like it is ashamed of itself. I was standing at my office window with a cup of coffee that had gone cold an hour ago, staring at nothing in particular, when I saw him.

Parked right there. Black motorcycle. Black jacket. Just sitting there like he owned the street and everything on it.

I told myself he was waiting for someone.

I told myself a lot of things that week.

The truth is, I had found something three days earlier that I was never supposed to find. A number buried inside a financial report that did not belong there. Small enough to overlook. Big enough to destroy people. I had stared at it for a long time before I printed it out, folded it twice, and slipped it into my bag.

That was my first mistake.

My second mistake was going back to work the next morning like everything was normal.

My third mistake?

That one I cannot tell you yet. Not because I want to be dramatic about it. But because if I tell you my third mistake right now, you will not understand how a woman like me, careful, quiet, invisible by choice, ended up falling in love with the man who was paid to put a bullet in my head.

So let me start from the beginning.

Let me tell you about the rain. The motorcycle. And the cold cup of coffee I was still holding when my whole life cracked open like it had been waiting years for the right moment to break.

His name was Cade Mercer.

And the first time I saw him, I felt something I could not name.

I know now what that feeling was.

It was a warning.

I just did not listen.