Chapter 7: Rules of the Engagement
The sun had long since dipped below the skyline when the private elevator chimed softly in the foyer of Suite 402. I was sitting on the edge of the velvet armchair, staring blankly at the dark screen of the burner phone, when Marcus stepped into the room.
He had discarded his jacket; his fitted black shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and the intricate ink of his neck and chest tattoos caught the low amber light of the floor lamps. He looked as formidable here in the upscale silence as he had standing over the restaurant table.
"You've been pacing," Marcus said, his voice low and even as he tossed a slim manila folder onto the coffee table.
"I've been wondering what kind of war I just stepped into," I replied, standing up to meet his gaze. I refused to shrink back, even as he closed the distance between us. "My apartment was torn apart this morning. Someone left a photograph of me with a red X across my face. That isn't just a corporate dispute, Marcus."
"No," Marcus agreed, stopping a few feet away. His dark eyes searched my face with an intense, clinical focus. "It’s a message sent by people who thought they could operate without consequence. They tracked the restaurant security footage, and they found you because you stood up."
"And you?" I asked, my voice sharpening. "Why pull me into your orbit? You could have paid for my apartment to be repaired. You could have relocated me quietly without putting a target on my back."
"Quiet relocation doesn't stop a predator," Marcus said, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating from him. "You chose to intervene. Once you cross that line in my world, you don't get to go back to being a spectator. My protection isn't a gift, Emily. It's a perimeter. And right now, you are inside it."
May you like
He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against my wrist with surprising gentleness before slipping the burner phone into my hand.
"Use that number only when I call," he instructed, his thumb lingering against my pulse point for a fraction of a second too long. "Tomorrow, the real work begins. You're going to learn who is trying to tear my city apart."
