Genevieve strolled along the familiar street where her accounting firm was nestled, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. In one hand, she carried her heels, the delicate shoes dangling loosely by their straps, while the other cradled a warm cup of hazelnut latte, the steam curling gently upwards. Monday was looming, and with it, the day she was set to reveal her findings to the multi-million dollar corporation Charlotte had recently acquired. To say Charlotte was thrilled to learn that Genevieve had unraveled the mystery in less than twenty-four hours would be a serious understatement. In fact, Charlotte had immediately called the company to rearrange the presentation, eager to get everything underway sooner rather than later.

As the entrance to her building came into view, Genevieve’s phone buzzed insistently in her pocket. After a brief, somewhat clumsy shuffle involving her bags, shoes, and coffee cup, she finally managed to answer, a smile spreading across her lips as her sister’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello,” Genevieve sang cheerfully. “How’s the honeymoon going? Are you back already?”

“You promised!” Jada’s voice rang out, sharp and playful.

Genevieve pulled the phone slightly away from her ear as she approached the door. Through the glass, she noticed a man standing inside, his presence immediately commanding attention. He was enormous, broad-shouldered like a fortress, his suit jacket stretched taut over arms that resembled tree trunks more than limbs. His deep brown eyes locked onto hers, holding her in place until she gave a small wave and gestured toward the door with a sincere expression. A smirk tugged at the corner of the man’s lips before he stepped forward and opened the door for her. She mouthed a quick “Thank you” and stepped inside the building’s cool, polished lobby.

“Jada, what are you talking about?” Genevieve asked, glancing toward the group of men clustered near the elevator. They looked as intimidating as the man who had just held the door for her. She recalled that a detective agency occupied the floor above her firm. Maybe they were recruiting?

“I mean the promise you made—not to go after Accardi,” Jada explained, her tone serious.

Genevieve sighed, turning away from the elevator and opting for the stairs instead. Her office was on the third floor, and she knew taking the stairs would be quicker.

“I promised I’d go back to the hotel. Which I did,” she reasoned aloud, pushing open the heavy door to the stairwell. Her voice echoed softly against the concrete walls. Above her, she heard the heavy thud of footsteps from the floor above. Curious, she peered cautiously around the railing but saw no one.

“Is that really how you want to play this?” Jada’s voice came through the phone again.

“Look, yes, I went to his house that night, but I left first thing in the morning. I haven’t heard from him since, nor do I expect to,” Genevieve replied firmly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Accardi’s been asking around about you,” Jada warned.

A sudden chill ran down Genevieve’s spine, causing her pace to falter on the stairs. “What do you mean he’s been asking about me? How do you even know? Aren’t you still in Costa Rica?”

The footsteps above her abruptly stopped. She glanced upward again but still saw no one.

“Mallory’s been calling Louis non-stop. Apparently, Accardi’s on a warpath. Rumor is, he’s looking for someone. A woman. Named Gen.”

Genevieve leaned back against the stairwell wall, exhaling deeply. She felt the weight of those words settle heavily on her chest. “Look, Jada, I’m sorry I lied earlier. After seeing Brian again, he was the only person I felt I could trust, someone who made me feel safe. I know people say he’s a bad guy, but I never saw that. If what you say about him being a powerful mafia boss is true, don’t you think he’d have found me by now? I’m not the type of woman Matteo chases after,” she admitted quietly.

Jada’s voice softened on the other end. “I’m just worried about you, Gen.”

Genevieve shook her head, trying to dismiss the unease creeping in. “I’m the kind of girl a guy cheats on, only to give the other woman everything the girl he’s cheating on has been asking for. That’s the truth.” She sighed again. “I needed a man like Matteo that night, and maybe he needed me. But it was just one weekend. Nothing more.”

Her mind flashed back to the images she’d found during her first online search of the Accardi family—event after event showing Matteo with a different woman on his arm. Though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, those pictures stung deeply. He had told her he never engaged in one-night stands, yet he was never photographed with the same girl twice.

“He’s forgotten about me by now,” she continued, forcing herself to believe the lie. “By the time you get home, he’ll have someone new. Don’t worry about me. Tell your husband to block his sister and enjoy your honeymoon.”

“Gen, I didn’t mean to—”

“I have a huge meeting, and I’m already late. I’ll call you later, okay?” she interrupted firmly.

“Fine. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Genevieve ended the call and let her head rest against the wall for a brief moment. Then, she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps and the sound of her firm’s door opening and closing above her. Damn it. Whoever was up there had surely overheard every self-critical thought she’d just voiced. She shook off the embarrassment and climbed the final flight of stairs to her office floor. Opening the door, she scanned the stairwell but found no one nearby.

Down the hall, Charlotte’s secretary, Jasmine, hurried toward her, clearly flustered.

“I know, I know, I’m late,” Genevieve said, setting down her bags as she slipped off her sneakers and swapped them for her heels. “How long have they been waiting?”

“Just two minutes. They’re fine,” Jasmine said, grabbing Genevieve’s arm with a knowing smile. “And I do mean fine,” she added, her eyes wide with emphasis.

Genevieve chuckled softly. “Thanks, I needed that.”

Jasmine shrugged. “It’s my job to pass on important information. They’re waiting for you in the conference room with Charlotte.”

“On a scale from normal to insane, how stressed is she?” Genevieve asked, taking the last sips of her latte as the conference room came into view.

“Definitely certifiable,” Jasmine replied with a nod.

Through the glass walls, Genevieve saw several men lounging in chairs, watching a frantic Charlotte pace back and forth, handing out water bottles and gesturing wildly as she speculated about Genevieve’s whereabouts. Genevieve turned at the door, making a quick exchange of her purse and backpack for the files and documents she’d meticulously prepared the day before.

“Cod Turk,” Jasmine whispered, nodding toward one of the men. “The CFO. The kind of guy who’ll make you rethink your life choices.”

Genevieve smiled faintly but shook her head, steadying herself before stepping fully into the room. She caught Charlotte’s eye and noticed the strands of hair escaping her otherwise perfect updo.

“Where have you been?” Charlotte hissed under her breath.

“Literally two minutes late, Hun. Calm down,” Genevieve replied with a reassuring pat on Charlotte’s shoulder as she plugged in her USB drive for the presentation.

“I apologize for my tardiness. I had to take an important call from a family member,” Genevieve announced, her voice steady as she faced the room. “My name is Genevieve Sinclair, and I’ll be presenting my findings today.”

Charlotte gave her a quick nudge before taking a seat beside her.

“That’s quite alright, Miss Sinclair. You are certainly a woman worth waiting for,” a familiar voice said, smooth and rich with an Italian accent that sent a shiver down Genevieve’s spine.

Her body froze. Slowly, she turned toward the source of the voice. At the far end of the table sat a man who could only be Matteo Accardi. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his hazel-brown eyes locked onto hers. He wore an impeccably tailored three-piece navy suit, lounging casually with one arm draped over the back of his chair, the other hand tapping lightly on the table. Her gaze drifted to his knuckles—roughened from too many fights—memories flooding her mind of those same knuckles tracing her skin. But instead of the warm, curious expression she remembered, his face was cold, detached, and carried a sinister edge.

“Genevieve is the best we have at the firm,” Charlotte said proudly. “That’s why we went into business together. She’s phenomenal at getting to the heart of any situation.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Matteo said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. Then, a slow grin spread across his face, and Genevieve gasped aloud. The sight of that grin brought back a vivid memory—the last time she’d seen it, he’d looked up at her between her legs, his tongue tracing her skin.

“Well, Genevieve,” Matteo’s voice dropped to a sultry tone that made her knees weaken, “let’s see if your accounting skills are as sharp as your disappearing acts.”