Mira had no idea her husband was hunting her.
She was sitting in the back of a black SUV—Evren's SUV, the same one from the night of the rogue attack—watching the city lights blur past the tinted windows. The leather seat was warm beneath her thighs. The air smelled like sandalwood and something wild.
And Evren sat across from her, close enough to touch, far enough to be proper.
"You've made good progress," he said, his voice low and measured. "The divorce petition is filed. The asset transfer is underway. Your former employees are rallying behind you."
Mira nodded, trying to focus on his words instead of the way his presence made her skin tingle. "Thomas and the others are ready to move as soon as the non-compete clauses expire."
"The non-compete clauses your husband didn
