Run
Genevieve I wasn’t about to run off like some damsel while bullets were flying. But I also knew showing up to a gunfight with no weapon was suicide. So I did the next best thing. I ran back to Saint Laurent’s apartment—not to hide, but to investigate. My training kicked in. I needed to know where the men were coming from, who was behind the ambush, and if there were any other threats he hadn’t seen yet. I stormed into his home office. The room smelled faintly of cigar smoke and leather, but the screens drew my attention instantly. Four massive monitors were mounted on the wall, each one filled with live surveillance feeds—alleyways, warehouse rooftops, street cams… he had the entire block on lockdown. I watched, my breath caught in my throat. Saint Laurent had already taken charge. H
- Writer
