Operation Redemption

I wasn't supposed to be here.

It was the same words that repeated itself over and over again in my head like a mantra.

I wasn't supposed to be here.

However, tonight's party was an event meant to be the talk of the town for months. At least, that is what the articles on the internet, TV, and other news outlets said. I should have known since I've been keeping tabs, watching every TV snippet, and reading every blog post. I had even marked the date down on my calendar.

Not because I was eager to attend the event or something, but because it was my job.

As a detective.

Invitation to the event was strictly by invitation, so I had no choice but to infiltrate the party dressed as a guest. Well, nothing a forged VIP card and a day spent shopping for the best outfit couldn't fix.

And so here I was, standing in the large garden of the manor, staring at the enormous building in front of me. I bit down on my lips, my nerves stretched taut as I tried to keep my expression aloof. Holding onto the champagne glass in my hand, I pretended to sip, raising the glass just a bit to my lips as I scanned the crowd of guests.

Light music played by a band at a corner filled the air in a melodic rhythm, along with the laughter and chatter of men dressed in their fine clothes and their expensive cufflinks, and women who smiled and laughed along. Their voices were sweet and their heads were covered by their lace hats. I could hear the sounds of a fountain nearby and the soft buzz of something, probably a flying drone.

The gun hidden under my skirt hit my skin lightly as I moved around the spacious garden. Faces I'd seen on TV or during board meetings passed by me, and I was almost tempted to take out my gun then and there. It's a good thing they couldn't recognize me due to the mask over my face.

I held out my half-drunk glass, waiting for the approaching waiter. When he passed by, I dropped it on the silver tray, ignoring the sharp glare he threw at me when the contents nearly spilled on him. With steps full of elegance, I continued to walk, eyes never stopping to glance around.

"Have you seen him yet?" Michael's cheery voice resounded from the small device I had hidden in my ear.

I shook my head as I walked farther away from the crowd. ''Not yet,'' I whispered back. I came to a stop in front of a water fountain. The statue of a naked woman holding a pitcher stared back at me. Water streamed down from her eyes and into the pool. ''I don't think he's come out yet.''

''No, he's there,'' Michael answered. ''I've been trying to pinpoint his exact spot but damn the security of this place is tight.'' He sighed. ''I'm not even sure how long you'll last before they find out you're not on the list. Be careful.''

I nodded to myself. ''Don't worry.''

The cool air of the night, fragrant with the scent of roses, caressed my exposed back, causing the nape of my neck to stand. I turned, suddenly feeling eyes on me when I caught a few gazes lingering my way. A group of men nodded my way, their wide smiles sending a shiver of unease down my spine.

I gave them a tight smile, winking through my mask. They winked back.

Ugh.

Ignoring them, I made my way around the fountain, the clicking of my heels the only sound that greeted my ears. A small building stood not too far ahead, lights shone from its window, and the closer I walked towards it, the louder the boisterous waves of laughter rang in the air, catching my attention. I approached the building and peeped through the window, only to see a room full of men.

They were all seated, drinks in hand, and cigars in between their lips. But the sight was not what caught my attention. Rather, it was the grey-haired man in their middle. His face was wrinkled with old age, but the spark in his eyes was clear even from this distance.

A large smile found itself on my lips.

"There he is," I muttered.

"Are you sure?"

I watched as the man threw his head back, laughing loudly. ''Yes.'' I could never forget his face.

Lorenzo Moretti.

He was the owner of one of the largest corporations in the country, and many considered him a tycoon. But that was just the part of him he wanted people to know. Behind closed doors, he was a different person entirely. A man known to have the underground world wrapped around his hands like a tight fist. Renowned owner of well-known casinos and galleries, and whose cold-blooded reputation precedes him.

Drug trafficking, human trafficking, smuggling. You name it. All this was attributed to him, yet no one could ever link anything to his name. He was untouchable. A man whose power, money, and connections reached high enough to influence even the most powerful of men in this country.

He gave us a damn good chase, and for months, he managed to evade our every attempt to bring him to justice, until now.

The man who we'd been looking for was finally within our reach.

Correction. My reach.

I quickly turned away. My stomach churned and my throat tightened with anticipation. I could already imagine myself hand-cuffing him.

Taking a deep breath, I called. ''Michael?''

''Yeah?''

''He's in the west wing of the building. I need-''

The sound of glass shattering echoed loudly, and I was instantly on alert. I drew in a sharp breath, eyes turning back to the window. A girl clad in a blue dress stumbled inside the room, a look of embarrassment on her face. She had most likely walked into the wrong room.

''I'm so sorry!'' I heard her say.

A loud sigh escaped my lips. ''Dammit, just what I needed.''

''Are you alright, young lady?'' One of the men asked.

''Yes, yes. I'm very sorry for interrupting your meeting.''

Moretti shook his head, raising a hand. A man came rushing inside, leaning down as Moretti whispered something into his ear.

I watched as the man nodded and then helped the girl stand.

"Hey, you can't-" I heard her protest. ''What are you-''

Fist clenched, I was ready to go inside, heels sinking into the grass beneath me, only to come to an abrupt stop when I caught a glimpse of the man sitting next to him.

My brows creased and then widened slowly when I realized who it was.

Killian Caine.

The name rang like a death bell in my mind.

I took in his appearance, trying my best not to get caught staring, but unable to help myself. He was a tall man, with dark hair that almost looked a darker shade of blue from where I stood. His eyes were gray.

But I know they were not. They were more of a striking silver. One that peered right into your soul the moment they caught your gaze.

I swallowed hard. While all his features and frame were attractive, it was not the reason I couldn't look away.

I took a step back, cautiously.

He couldn't see me. That would be a huge problem.

''Nat, what's wrong? Why did you stop?''

I couldn't speak, and the voice in my ear only increased the rapid beat of my heart.

Just then, as if sensing my presence, Killian slowly turned my way, and just as I feared, his eyes lingered on me for a long moment. I watched as his lips parted, and his brows furrowed, his gaze piercing through my own.

I wondered if he could see me or if he knew it was me. I was dressed differently tonight, clad in a long black dress and a fake red wig to match. The seconds ticked by as we continued to stare, and for a minute, I thought he wasn't even looking at me until his lips curled up in a devilish grin.

A grin that sent chills down my spine.

"I know it's you, Natalia." He mouthed, raising his hand in a mocking wave.

Pulling away from the window, I turned around swiftly, hurrying back the way I came.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

"Nat! Nat, what happened? Where are you going?"

"He saw me," I said as I rushed through the crowd, doing my best to blend in.

"What do you mean? Who saw you? Lorenzo?"

"No! No, m-my husband saw me!" I said, louder.

"For real?!''

I was already rushing out of the garden, heading towards the huge gates, when I bumped into a body that knocked the mask off my face. I staggered back a little, looking up in panic.

A man dressed in black, from his shades to his suit, stood in front of me, blocking my way. I took a step back and tried to move past him, but another man came to stand in my way.

My stomach dropped.

"Can we see an invite ma'am?"

Shit!

"I...I, umm." My mind went blank. Passing through the"I lost it," I lied.

The two guards shared a look. One of them stepped closer, and I had to stop myself from flinching. "Can we have your name, please?''

I shook my head, fingers edging towards the gun strapped to my thigh. "Look, I have to be somewhere. So if you could just-"

"I'm afraid we can't do that, ma'am. We have strict orders to check everyone here."

My chest constricted.

I was not getting out of this one without the use of force. But if I did, I could get-

"Oh, there you are."

I whirled around, surprised.

Killian was standing behind me, and I couldn't help but curse under my breath. "Hello, wife," he said, his silver eyes gleaming. ''Fancy seeing you here.''

The unruffled tone of his voice did nothing to conceal the irritation and anger that was evident on his face. I could practically feel the tension emanating from him.

My heart leaped to my throat, sweat running down my back, despite the cold air.

His gaze was like a laser, focused and unwavering. The intensity of his stare alone made me want to take a step back. I didn't have to wonder why. I could already tell that he was angry. Very pissed.

I held back a groan. Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing at all.

My mouth opened and closed several times. "Hi." It was the only thing that came out of me.

Killian came over to my side, wrapping a hand around my waist. The heat of his body, his cologne, and his touch had my insides doing things it shouldn't. "Gentlemen, this is my wife. She got a little lost so I was just looking for her."

I felt my throat bob as I swallowed, and his hand tightened around my waist.

The two men shared another look before they bowed slightly. "Please forgive us, Mr. Caine."

He smiled. "There's no need for that."

The two men gave another nod before they walked away. When they were gone, Killian pulled his hand away from my waist, turning to me.

He stared, watching me closely, arms folded over his chest. "You know, I was wondering why I couldn't reach you. Why your phone was dead? I never imagined-'' his eyes trailed down my body, making me shiver. "-that you would be here. Dressed like this. Like a clown.''

My eyes twitched at his insult, a part of me aware that Michael could still be listening in on our conversation. I cleared my throat, trying my best to hide the trembling of my hands. "I, uh...'' I began, unsure.

"Save it." His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. "You're leaving now."

Before I could even protest, I was pulled along, forced to follow their quick and heavy strides. I looked around, only to find people watching, whispering, their eyes on us.

"Let go, Killian," I said, tugging my arm away.

"Let go? You're kidding, right?" He chuckled, stopping to look at me. "What are you doing here, Natalia? Why are you here?"

"Why are you here? This isn't one of your usual places, so why are you here?" I countered.

''I was invited.'' He said in a matter-of-fact tone. Of course, he would be. Killian Caine was a member of the Caine family, and their name was not a secret in the city. They owned many restaurants, hotels, and other businesses. Their wealth was vast and they were very influential, so much so that they could rival Moretti, or any other person for that matter.

"Me too," I replied, lying through my teeth.

"No, you weren't. Don't try to play dumb. Why are you here? Did you sneak in? Is this one of your raids again?" With each question he asked, his tone rose.

"No, it's not. I was invited, okay? I came with friends."

"Liar. You and I both know you don't have friends."

Another eye twitch.

I sighed. "Okay, fine. I did sneak in. But it's for a good reason."

"And what reason is that?"

"Work," I said. "I was working. It's not like you don't know what my job is."

Killian looked at me, disbelief on his face. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe you sometimes."

"Why are you sounding so worked up anyway?" I couldn't help but ask. "You can just ignore me like you always do back home."

"You're seriously asking me that?" He leaned forward, and I could see the muscles in his neck tighten. ''You don't understand, do you?'' he said, his tone laced with annoyance. ''This isn't some sort of joke, Natalia. This isn't the place to play cops and robbers. What were you thinking?''

"I wasn't playing anything. And I'm not a child, Killian. You don't have to scold me."

He sighed again. ''Coming here was foolish, Natalia.'' He said quietly. ''I don't know what you are after, but Moretti isn't a man to mess with likely. Had his men found you, you'd be dead by now.''

The words caused my heart to jump, and for a moment, I was stunned into silence. The look of genuine concern in his eyes made my chest ache. But more than that confused me. I couldn't tell if he was pretending or not.

"What makes you think I can't handle myself? You're underestimating me. I am a police officer, Killian.''

"I'm not. You're the one overestimating yourself," he spat. "If you value your life, you should leave before you regret it."

I clenched my jaw, palm itching to draw out my gun. We stayed silent for a second, before he stepped back, away from me.

The anger on his face had long subsided, replaced by something else I couldn't recognize. He reached a hand up and pulled a strand of my hair away from my face, letting his hand linger on my cheek.

I swallowed, the gentle touch sending a tingling sensation down my spine.

"You should leave," he said, pulling away. I looked up at his eyes, watching as the silver in his eyes gleamed.

I took a step back, suddenly feeling exposed. "Why are you being so nice? I thought you hated me?"

"I don't hate you."

"Could've fooled me." I sneered.

He didn't say anything to that. Just stared.

Seeing that my mission tonight was a bust, and knowing that I wouldn't be able to do much, I decided it was best for me to go.

I tapped on my ear receiver. ''We're aborting the mission,'' I said, looking up at Killian. I saw him sigh in relief.

''Roger.''

"Well then," I said, taking the receiver off my ear. "I guess I'll leave first."

As I was about to turn away, he grabbed me by the wrist.

"What-"

"Wait."

I turned to him, and our eyes met, the sound of our breaths the only thing filling the silence.

He looked as though he wanted to say something, his lips parted and then closed. "Never mind." He said, releasing my hand.

I frowned. With one last look at Killian, I turned, my mouth tasting bitter. I felt Killian's eyes on me as I walked out the gates, down the steps, away from the party, and away from the building. I didn't have a choice, but to call it off.

My job was important to me. I didn't want to risk my life, not yet. Not when I hadn't brought my enemies to justice yet.

I could still feel the weight of his stare, even as I disappeared into the dark, away from him.

The moment I walked into my office later that night, I knew I was in deep trouble. The grim look on Michael's face as he held up a phone in his hand was enough to send the hairs on my arms rising.

''Chief's on the phone," he whispered to me as I got closer.

My shoulders tensed as I reached for the phone. I remembered to take a beat before I pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello, Chief."

"Detective." I could hear the anger in his voice and the tension that lingered.

"Did you forget about the briefing we had just before your operation?"

"No sir."

"So, why did you decide to investigate without permission?"

"Sir, it wasn't a solo operation. Michael was with me." I tried to reason, but I knew there was no escaping this.

"You and I both know that isn't the issue, Detective. Your actions could have put everyone in danger."

I swallowed, biting my tongue, least I said something I wasn't supposed to. "Sir-" I began but he interrupted.

"It's only thanks to the fact that the operation failed that you aren't in deep shit right now. However, since we didn't get anything, the case will be put on hold until further notice."

"But we did get something-!"

"And you are off the case as well."

What? I gaped, almost dropping the phone in shock. It took all of my strength not to lose my cool. I needed to be calm and think things through before I acted rashly. Getting angry won't help. "But Chief, you can't do that."

"It's an order."

"Sir, I know I messed up. But you can't remove me from this case." I could feel Michael's eyes on me as I spoke, but I ignored him. "I have been working on this for a while. You can't just kick me out.''

''As much as I don't want to, I've been given the orders.'' He sighed, and there was a silent pause before he continued. ''The investigation will resume later on.''

''When?'' I knew he was lying. Just like the other cases that needed investigation being swept under the rug like it was nothing. I knew Moretti's case would be too.

"Till further notice."

"Chief-"

"You're dismissed."

Before I could say anything else, the line went dead.

My shoulders slumped as I set the phone back. I didn't dare look up, not wanting to face the disappointment on Michael's face.

''Well, that didn't go as planned at all." He said, coming over to my side. ''What do we do now?"

I shrugged, feeling the heaviness in my chest.

I was the lead detective in the Moretti case, so not only was I angry about the fact that the chief had taken me off the case, but the thought of having to leave the investigation halfway left a sour taste in my mouth. Aside from the fact that I've been looking for ways to bring Moretti down, it's been my life for years. This case was all I had. The only thing that mattered. It was a promise I made to a friend, and I couldn't fail it.

"Hey," Michael said, placing a hand on my shoulder. His blue eyes trained on me, a frown etched on his face. "I'm sure the Chief will let you back in on the case."

"Yeah."

"Don't worry too much, okay?" He said in a reassuring tone. Then be stopped to look at me. "I'm guessing this is the wrong time to talk about your outfit."

"What about it?" I looked down at myself, realizing what he was referring to.

The black dress I was wearing was a little too revealing. And while it might have been great for a night out, it was not ideal for an investigation. I had picked it out because I'd heard the theme of the party was masquerade and ball. But after seeing all the other guests' attires, I realized I might have overdone it.

"What? This isn't the first time I've had to infiltrate a party. It's the same thing as undercover, and I was dressed appropriately for the situation."

"Yeah, but..." He said, scratching the back of his head, and looking away from me. If not for the dim red light in the room, I almost mistake the shade on his cheeks as a blush. Or maybe it was.

"But?" I urged.

"You're married."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. I've gone out in much less clothing. Remember that-''

Michael cleared his throat, cutting me short.

"Not like that. What I meant was," I continued. "It's not like anyone recognized me.''

"But your husband did.''

I groaned, slumping down on a chair. "Don't even bring that up," I said, taking my gun from the holster around my thigh and placing it on the table in front of me.

The last time I saw Killian was five months ago. We never met up or spent the holidays together. It was just us living separately and going about our lives. He traveled around doing what he knew how to do, while I worked myself off just to get a lead on Moretti's case. I'd almost forgotten about his existence until I saw him tonight.

Seeing him brought back a lot of memories and feelings I would rather forget.

"Okay, I won't." Michael laughed. " Still, I was surprised you were able to blend in so easily. It was almost as if you were a part of their world."

I smiled. Michael didn't know much about me. About who I was before, or the type of family that I came from. All he knew was the Natalia that was in front of him. And as far as I was concerned, that's all he needed to know. All I needed him to know.

After Michael left my office, I began to pack. Chief had called back to tell me to head home early, and although I wasn't in the mood, I didn't protest.

I had just finished packing the last of my belongings when the sound of something falling to the ground with a ping caught my attention. I glanced down, at the small silver band on the floor. I picked it up, watching it glisten in the light.

"Right. I forgot," I mumbled. Staring at my wedding ring like it was the strangest thing I'd seen today. Wearing it wasn't a habit of mine. What was the point anyway? When the marriage itself was nothing but a sham. A fake. A contract deal made by both of our families. One that benefited them.

And even though Killian had made it clear that he had no plans to annul the marriage, it didn't change the fact that he didn't care. My fingers grazed over the ring, a bitter smile tugging on my lips.

We were not in love.

In the four years since we got married, there was not a single moment when he said or done anything to indicate that he for once cared. He'd barely acknowledged my existence, and whenever we did meet, which was rarely, his actions only proved just how little he cared.

The words he said to me on our wedding night were, ''Let's keep things civil."

And so I did. For four years, I kept things civil. Acting like the wife I had to be when the public eye demanded it. But that was all to it. I tried to make things work.

But it was hard.

Tonight, however, he'd surprised me. His actions and the look in his eyes. There was no way I was wrong. I knew what I saw.

He cared.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. Maybe, I had just imagined it. I could not help the way my heart squeezed painfully at the thought.

The day Killian and I met, had been the happiest day of my life.

It was also the day that led to my whole world falling apart.

It took my father three and a half minutes before he'd officially deemed me late for his very important dinner. The most important dinner, in his opinion, was where he would introduce my 'fiancée'. I hated the sound of that.

I was already, almost, twenty-three years old and should have no right to have a fiancée, but according to my dad, I was expected to do exactly that.

In just a week and three days, my entire life was assured to change, and all my father had worked for would also be safe. The moment the restaurant came into view, I drew in a sharp breath, feeling my stomach dip.

"Are you all right?" the driver asked from the front seat, and I looked up to find him watching me through the rear-view mirror.

I offered him a smile and said, "Yeah, I'm okay."

No, I wasn't. I was so far from okay, but what else could I do?

I reached out for the small clutch that had been placed on the seat beside me and grabbed the door handle. Stepping out onto the quiet sidewalk, I straightened my black pencil dress and brushed out any crinkles that had appeared on the way over.

A light wind caused goose bumps to pepper my exposed skin, but I ignored them and forced myself to walk to the entrance.

A security guard by the door looked me up and down as I approached him. If I wasn't mistaken, his gaze stopped at the dip in the V at my chest and lingered.

"Hi," I greeted with a wave, drawing his attention back to my face. "I have an appointment here," I continued as he moved his tall frame from in front of the door. "My last name is Bassey."

The guard nodded his head and opened the door for me, saying, "Your Father and other guests are waiting for you."

Other guests. Great, I already knew who one of those guests would be.

I walked into the restaurant, taking a brief second to let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. My father sat at the far side of the restaurant with his back towards me, while his body faced a dark-haired man who was turned towards me.

Killian Caine.

His gaze connected with mine from across the room and he tilted his head to the left. His smile widened before I forced myself to look away and take the first step forward.

He still had those same silver-blue eyes. It was a shade that was still peculiar to me even after all these years. A shade that made you feel like you were drowning when looking into them for too long. They appeared gray at first glance, but the more you looked, the more they appeared to be silver-blue.

It had been seven years since I'd seen him in person, and even then it hadn't been under the best circumstances.

Killian was my brother's best friend, so he and I grew up together. We weren't friends and most times he only came around when my brother was home for the holidays. But even then, there were plenty of times I would catch his silver-blue orbs trained on me.

My stomach dipped.

I continued walking to where they sat, only stopping once I reached the table.

"Natalia," my father greeted, extending a hand out to me with a smile that didn't reach his deep brown eyes. My father was a tall man, with black hair, the same shade as mine. He looked to be a man in his early thirties when he was actually in his fifties. My mum used to say I was the exact copy of him. But I begged to differ. When my Dad saw a blank sheet, he saw it as something waiting to be filled with business plans and contract deals. When I looked at the same sheet, I saw it as something waiting to be filled with colors and artwork.

I never understood his business. And he didn't understand my dreams.

"You're late," he continued.

I smiled and placed my small clutch on the table before sitting down. Killian's gaze was still on me.

Ignoring him, I glanced around the table. My dad, Killian, and two other men sat there. Business partners of my father, I presumed.

I looked back at my Father. "Traffic," I said.

My Dad didn't respond, but the twitch of his jaw told me he wasn't too happy with my excuse.

"Anyway, you're here now," my father continued. "Killian, this is my daughter, Natalia. Natalia, Killian."

I slowly turned his way and found his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than they should. I watched as his lips parted, his gaze piercing through my own. Seconds seemed to tick by as we stared at each other and for a minute.

''Nat,'' he said in a baritone that traveled through my ears and landed in my stomach, twisting them even further. ''It's good to see you again."

I blinked, a rush of recognition flowing through me when I listened to his indifferent tone.

My tone was polite as I responded, hoping the small smile on my face wasn't as fake as it felt. ''Likewise,''

Killian looked as if he wanted to say more, but my Father cut in.

''Well, now that you two are acquainted. Let's get down to business."

I drew in a deep breath and looked over to the waitress who was approaching the table with a notepad in hand. She looked younger than me, with short blonde hair and blue eyes. I didn't miss the way her eyes ran over Killian before she looked up at him, offering him a charming smile.

I couldn't blame her. Killian looked like the type of man any woman would crave. I, however, knew exactly the kind of man he was.

I also knew that the man I remembered from seven years ago was not the same man sitting beside me.

"What would you like?" the waitress asked Killian, and I couldn't help the scoff that slipped out my lips. I rolled my eyes and placed the menu in my hand.

Killian shifted in his seat beside me and looked over to me.

"Did I do something wrong?" the waitress asked, sounding annoyed.

"Natalia,'' My Father snapped.

I ignored him. "We are all gathered here, he's not the only one, " I said, turning to her with a fake smile. "You don't need to act as if he's the only person at the table."

Killian chuckled, his soft laughter sending shivers down my spine as the waitress gaped at me.

"Order your food and stop acting ridiculous," my Father said.

''Fine," I responded, ignoring the waitress.

"The steak please," Killian said. One at a time we all said our orders. When she was done, I looked over at Killian as the waitress walked away with our orders. He still had that same indifferent smile, and there was still a hint of amusement in his gaze as he stared at me.

I wanted to ignore him, but it was as if I couldn't.

I knew his gaze was still on me.

My Father started talking to one of the business associates who had accompanied him to the dinner. I couldn't find myself to listen, though. My stomach churned with knots, and I was feeling dizzy.

"Are you all right?" Killian whispered.

My Father stopped mid-sentence and looked over at me before looking over to Killian.

"Everything all right?"

Killian looked over to my father and nodded his head. "Nat's looking a little pale," he said, glancing back over to me. ''Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," Why was he acting like he cared? "I need to use the restroom." I stood up and grabbed my purse.

I avoided their gaze, walking away from the table as fast as I could. I pushed open the door to the ladies' restroom, sighing softly to myself as the cold air of the AC in the restaurant hit my face.

I turned around to check if anyone was in the bathroom with me before moving over to the sink.

I looked up to watch myself through the mirror in front of me. My father's words echoed through my mind as I stared at my reflection.

'In two weeks, you're going to be marrying Killian Caine.'

Marrying Killian Caine.

I drew in a sharp breath as I replayed those words through my mind.

How the hell was I going to marry Killian?

What made my Father think this would even be a good idea?

I didn't want to get married and to Killian of all people. The Killian I remembered was obnoxious. Cocky. Rude. And so not the kind of person I wanted to marry.

''Fuck," I cursed under my breath, reaching up to brush my hand through my thick hair.

''That's an interesting word to hear in this very fancy place." I froze at the sound of his baritone.

My body instantly tensed as his warm breath fanned against the back of my neck, followed by the lingering scent of his expensive cologne.

I quickly whipped around. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you."

"This is the lady's bathroom."

"No, it's not." He pointed to the door, and sure enough on the door was a sign with 'Gentlemen' written on it.

Damn it.

''I'm fine," I said, stepping away from him. I reached out for my purse on the counter, needing a way out of there as fast as I could. He was in front of me before I could take another step, effectively stopping me from going anywhere.

''Really? Because I don't think you are."

''Why do you care?" I hissed. "In case you forgot, we are not friends."

"Yes, but we will be married soon, Natalia," I ignored the way my stomach fluttered at how he called my name. There was a fondness to it like we'd known each other for a while.

''I'm doing this for business and nothing more, Killian. There will be no friendship and marriage will be for the sake of keeping it. And nothing more." I sighed. "Why did you even agree to this?"

"Because I needed a wife, and your father needed a business partner." He shrugged like the whole matter was something casual. Insignificant. Something that could be solved with a quick solution.

"You don't care who you marry?"

"You sound like marrying me is a bad thing Nat, should I be concerned?"

''Don't call me Nat," I snapped.

"Nat," Killian stepped forward, and my breath caught in my throat. "We both know it is a marriage out of necessity and nothing else, so stop acting as if we're going to fall in love."

"It would be bad if we did," I scoffed.

Killian stared down at me with those eyes that could suck the breath right out of my throat. My breathing hitched when they lingered on my lips for a moment before coming back to meet my gaze.

He took another step forward, closing whatever distance was between us. His chest brushed against the front of mine, and my skin prickled in response.

Killian lowered his head until our faces were only inches apart, and his breath fanned against my parted lips.

My heart was slamming wildly in my chest as I waited, anticipating his next move. Killian moved his face to the right side of my head and pressed his nose against the skin just under my ear.

The simple action caused chills to run down my spine, and it had me holding my breath. What was he doing?

''You smell the same," he said softly into my ear. ''Cherries and vanilla."

Killian stepped back. His head was tilted to the side as he studied me with something unfamiliar flashing through his gaze. I couldn't bring myself to say anything, and I refused to ask him what he meant by smelling the same.

''Let's go back," Killian finally said. "And think of this arrangement as a contract and deal. Nothing more."

He spun around and walked out of the bathroom.

If only I knew what I'd gotten myself into by agreeing to the proposal in the first place. I would have walked away. Walked away and never looked back. But I didn't. I was young, naïve, and stupid. A girl who didn't want to lose the affection of her father just yet, so I accepted his proposal.

But it was all a lie.

Killian and I were not in love. We were not married. We were not in a relationship. We were a business deal.

A business deal that lasted for four good years.

We did well coming this far If I was being honest, and the only time we had slept together after that night was on the wedding night. The next day, I woke up in bed alone.

And he didn't try to make contact with me, even when we both lived in the same building.

So much for trying to keep things civil. The first two months had been awkward, but it had been okay.

I did my thing, and he did his. But then the months went by, and months turned into a whole year. And then two. And in the third year, I lost Eva to a car accident. One that had been orchestrated by one of Lorenzo Moretti's men.