Rising From Ashes: The CEO's Secret Queen

ecurity system logged

er trick from Queen's bag, a backdoor she'd installed during their engagement when she

te their employers' nocturnal habits. She climbed the stairs on bare feet, her shoes in her h

was closed. She

slowly. The hinges were well-oiled, silent. She slipped th

bed. Exactly where she had le

believe it

No movement. The Mercedes wasn't in the drive-she had checked fro

d written herself, one that logged all system activity, pinged with an alert. A remote access event. Time-stamped twenty minutes after Holt had left

s if it had never existed. The script had even erased its own tracks from the primary

Queen's interface after periods of inactivity, that migrated sensitive data to offshore server

r automated cleanup. This was an external com

failed passwords, no evidence of intrusion at all on t

accessed it was

Holt. It had to be him. He hadn't come back; he had reached in from w

hes, replacing them with silk pajamas, the costume of the woman Holt expected to find. The

softening, the intelligence dimming, the mask

de. The particular rhythm of weight distribution that she had learned to identify in thei

brushing her hair, counting strokes,

ened. He di

. He stood in the doorway in his shirtsleeves, tie gone, jacket draped over one arm. He look

She set the brush do

he

inst the dresser, her posture deliberately languid. "The c

t, brushed hair, the picture of domestic normalcy-and she saw the dis

ke a confession. "Reviewing the Apex

nd

Our due diligence missed it entirely." He dropped his jacket onto the armchai

d him move to the window, his back

inued. "The trades that mirrored ours. They're routed

, a constriction in her throat, a coldness

epeated, her voic

the company fifteen years ago. Before Blanchard Group. Before any of this. It's been dormant for years, waiting for-" He stopped. Shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is t

n his eyes, the red lines of strain, the desperate calculation of a

k my accounts. That you haven't been playing me from the begin

on rehearsed. A lucky guess. A friend in finance. A drea

ached out and t

heat of skin that had been too long without contact. He flinched-she felt

't hack your accounts. I didn't play you." She paused. Her thumb traced the line of his cheekbone, feeling the bone beneath, the architecture

wrist. Not roughly. Not gen

ou dan

onsidered. "I d

not an

only one

carried voltage in both directions. She could feel his pulse against her palm, accelerated, uncertain. She wondered

his face, but didn't release it. Held it between them li

alls that save my company by accident. You're going to tell me what you know about Apex. About Cary's backers. About

r the chair. The pants, crumpled on the floor where she'd stepped ou

u what I can.

ecide if it

e space between them filled with air th

d walked to the door. Paused

tore up those papers. That's the problem." He looked back, and his eyes were terrible, full of hope and sus

osed softly

ward the east wing, toward the guest room where he had slept for

hand still tingling from his grip, her w

ng Hol

irrored her own. Why? Was it a test? A trap? Or a message she couldn't decipher? He had erased her terminal, proving he could see her

He wasn't just a king to be cornered; he was another player, moving silent pieces in the

zying. He was more than she

n, her mind racing through scenarios, cont

he truth. Not about the fire. Not about Lilith

would see her as a threat to his o

ge they could share. A truth that did

the house, a floorboard creaked-Holt, pacin

for the scent of him that still lingered from their collision two nights

ther life, another death, anot

gain. But first, she