Page 36 of Cold Carnage

I packed up my things and headed back out into the night, feeling marginally lighter than before. This fight wasn't over—far from it—but for now, I'd found a way to keep pretending.

Chapter 11

Paige

The office was a sea of silence, long past the hours when most had headed home. My inbox pinged incessantly, each new email a reminder of the press conference earlier that day. Questions and follow-ups poured in, an unending stream demanding my attention. I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping in but pushed it aside. Getting this over with tonight meant a smoother morning.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen as my fingers hovered over the keyboard. The clock on my desk read 10:45 PM. Another ping. Another email. Sighing, I clicked it open and began to type a response.

"Ms. Adams, can you clarify Ryker's stance on the new sponsorship deal?" one journalist had asked.

I crafted a careful reply, making sure to toe the line between transparency and corporate diplomacy. It was delicate work—saying just enough without giving too much away. As I finished one email, another three took its place. It was like trying to empty an ocean with a teaspoon.

My phone buzzed beside me, pulling me out of my focused haze. A text from my best friend, Daphne:

Hey, still at the office? You've got this. Kane is an ass, but what a fine ass. Damn!

I smiled faintly at her concern and replied:

Just wrapping up some loose ends. Thanks for checking in!

Shifting in my seat, I returned to my emails. The cursor blinked back at me, waiting for the next string of words. I glanced at the pile of papers on my desk, various notes from the day's meetings scattered like confetti after a parade.

As I clicked send on yet another reply, a shadow fell across my desk. I looked up to find Ryker standing there, arms crossed and brow furrowed. The overhead light cast shadows that accentuated every muscle. In his workout clothes, he looked like something carved from stone—broad shoulders tapering down to a lean waist, his arms rippling with defined muscle. His hair, damp from what must have been an intense session, clung to his forehead in dark strands. My eyes lingered on the strength of his forearms, the way the veins stood out as he crossed them over his chest.

I felt a tingling sensation low in my pelvis, an unwanted and inconvenient reaction. I quickly pushed it away, straightening in my chair and forcing my focus back to the work at hand. This was not the time for distractions, no matter how infuriatingly attractive they might be.

"You're still here," he observed, his voice lacking its usual bite.

"Yeah," I replied, trying to keep the surprise out of my tone. "Figured I'd get ahead of these emails."

He didn't move, just stood there watching me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

"You should go home," he said finally, softer than I'd ever heard him before.

"I will," I promised, "Just need to finish this last batch."

His eyes flicked to the screen then back to me. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something more but held back.

I looked up at Ryker, confusion etched on my face. "What?"

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "Why did you leave?"

I opened my mouth to respond but then shut it again, sensing the weight of his question. He wasn’t referring to today or yesterday. He was talking about the wedding.

"Look," I began, choosing my words carefully, "What happened between me and Brendan has nothing to do with you."

"That's not what he seems to think," Ryker shot back.

I straightened in my chair, a cold knot forming in my stomach. "What?"

Ryker looked away, his jaw clenching so hard I thought I heard his teeth grind. It was clear he didn’t want to have this conversation any more than I did.

"Ryker," I said, forcing calm into my voice, "What the hell do you know about it?"

He glared at me, the intensity in his eyes cutting through the dim light of the office. "What happened between you two?"

"It's nothing I'm going to speak about," I replied, slowly standing up and squaring my shoulders. "Especially not to you."

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