ELENA
Three weeks of stolen nights had changed the shape of everything between us.
We had learned each other’s bodies in hotel rooms, the back of his car and once on the desk in his office after everyone had left.
That Thursday he texted me an address I didn’t recognize and one line.
Come when you’re ready. Trust me.
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The place was a quiet loft on the edge of the city. Julian opened the door himself. Behind him stood another man.
Tall. Dark hair. Sharp eyes that took me in without surprise. Julian’s hand settled on the small of my back as he closed the door.
“This is Elias,” Julian said. “He knows. He’s been around the edges of the situation for a while.”
Elias gave me a small nod, his expression unreadable.
“Nice to meet you.”
I looked between them, still trying to und
