Page 17 of Toxic

The hurt and confusion that flash across Hawk’s face make me realize I’ve miscalculated badly. Embarrassment and anger war within me as I stand abruptly. “I think this was a mistake,” I mutter, turning to leave.

I hear Hawk call after me, but I don’t stop. I make it to the elevator before he catches up, slipping inside just as the doors are closing.

“What do you want, Hawk?” I demand, staring resolutely at the polished metal doors.

He moves closer, his presence filling the small space. “To clear up this misunderstanding.”

I glance up at him, confusion and annoyance warring in my chest. “What misunderstanding?”

“I wanted to apologize for not being conscious when you left,” he explains, his voice low and intense. “I wanted to be awake to say good-bye.”

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I feel my carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. “Oh,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hawk reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The gentle touch sends sparks skittering across my skin. “I don’t regret what happened,” he says softly. His gentle touch changes the moment his hand wraps around my throat. “Far from it.”

My body is instantly ablaze and heat pools between my legs. The hand at my throat squeezes and he pins me against the back of the elevator. I swallow hard, vulnerability threatening to overwhelm me. “Neither do I,” I admit, the words come out a hoarse whisper, both a surrender and a victory.

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty lobby. Neither of us moves. Hawk’s gaze drops to my lips, and I know what’s coming a split second before it happens.

His kiss is hard, commanding, and all-consuming. Everything I remember and more—passionate, demanding, with an underlying tenderness that makes my knees weak. I return it with equal fervor, months of pent-up desire and longing pouring out in this one perfect moment.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless and trembling. Hawk’s eyes are dark with want, but there’s something else there too—a warmth, a connection that goes beyond mere physical attraction.

“Let’s get some dinner,” he says softly, his thumb tracing my lower lip.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As we step out of the elevator, Hawk’s hand holds mine, fingers entwined—a gesture both possessive and protective.

I don’t feel the need to pull away. Not with Hawk. I’ve craved his touch for so long that I’m almost giddy with excitement having him near me. But I can’t show it. It would ruin everything.

As we make our way back to the bar, my mind races.

I think of Regina’s schemes, of the secrets I’m keeping, and of the delicate balance I’ve worked so hard to maintain. I know that pursuing this thing with Hawk—whatever it is—will complicate everything and it will give him the upper hand.

But as I feel his fingers squeeze mine while he towers over my side, I realize something.

Some games are worth losing.

And some dangers are worth embracing. And Hawk and I…we have unfinished business.

EIGHT

The city sprawls beneath me, a glittering tapestry of light and shadow. From my office on the top floor of Rivers Tower, I survey my domain with a mixture of pride and simmering rage. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view that never fails to remind me of the power I wield—and the lengths I’ll go to maintain it.

I turn from the vista, my attention drawn to the array of screens covering one wall of my office. Each display feeds me real-time data on Rivers Financial’s operations, a constant stream of information that I’ve always found comforting. But lately, that comfort has been eroded by anomalies that I can’t explain, and if there’s one thing I despise, it’s not being in control.

“Hawk, your cybersecurity team is here.”

I press a button, for my assistant granting them entry. “Bring them in, Lucas.”

The door opens, admitting a group of men and women in crisp suits led by Lucas Grant, my right-hand man. Their faces are a mix of determination and thinly veiled fear. They know the cost of failure in my world.

“Report,” I command, settling into my chair behind the imposing mahogany desk. The leather creaks softly, a sound that usually soothes me. Not today.

Lucas steps forward, tablet in hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Sir, we’ve detected a pattern of... assistance. Someone’s been intercepting threats to our systems before they can materialize. Financial transactions diverted, security breaches thwarted.”

I lean back, fingers steepled, my voice dangerously soft. “And you haven’t been able to trace this... benefactor?”

A ripple of discomfort passes through the group. Sweat beads on foreheads, hands clench imperceptibly.

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