Page 31 of Johan.

My eyes blink a few times, confusion deepening. “The what?”

Amelia chuckles, head shaking and she shares a glance with Angela. “I knew he wouldn’t tell a soul about it.” She goes to the table and retrieves from there a picture of a drawing she or someone else did of a long scepter filled with gems around the top. “This is the royal scepter, made of gold and the most precious gems.”

“That’s Ludovic's obsession right there,” Angela says, her voice laced with a mix of irritation and resignation. She sits and leans back in her chair, crossing her legs as if she’s seen this scenario play out too many times before.

“He's going to do everything in his power to get his hands on it before anyone else does,” Amelia adds, her eyes narrowingwith a sharp focus. She shifts slightly, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table. “And once he does, he'll sell it to the highest bidder without a second thought.”

I lean forward, the weight of her words sinking in. “I need to find it before he does, then.”

Amelia’s gaze softens, as if she’s considering the gravity of my resolve. “After Ludovic halted the expedition, I couldn’t let it go. I kept studying the area, pouring over all the data we gathered. I'm certain the Star of Ubar is hidden just a few miles from Shisr,” she says, her voice brimming with conviction, while her finger points to an area in the map. “Somewhere here.”

The room feels charged, every word heightening the urgency. I break the tension, my tone casual but with an undercurrent of importance. “Ludovic has a dinner with the Omani ambassador on Monday. He actually invited me, but I turned him down.”

“You need to go,” Amelia interrupts, her voice firm. She places her hand flat on the table, her eyes locking onto mine. “We need to know the current state of the sites. If any other teams have been working in that area, we have to be ahead of them.”

I pause, glancing at everyone around me. There's no other option. “Alright. I'll go, then.”

Amelia exhales, relieved. “Good.” She straightens up, her expression hardening. “Johan, whatever Ludovic tells you, remember this: he’s a manipulative man. There’s nothing sincere in anything he says. Don’t let him get into your head.”

“I know.” I nod, a bitter smile forming on my lips. “Judging by his daughter, I can only imagine he's as much of an asshole as she is.”

Angela glances at her watch, the soft ticking suddenly noticeable in the quiet room. She looks up with a sense of urgency and rises from her seat. “Amelia, it's time to go.”

“Oh, right,” Amelia says, snapping out of her thoughts. She grabs her bag and smoothly slides it over her shoulder. A small smile plays on her lips as her eyes drift between Hannah and me. “You two can stay here if you’d like.”

Hannah, who had been quietly listening, finally speaks up, her voice tinged with disappointment. “You're leaving already?”

Amelia pauses by the door, offering a reassuring smile. “We'll meet again soon, I promise. Besides,” she adds, glancing between the two of us, "it looks like you two need to talk.”

We exchange goodbyes, and as Amelia and Angela leave the apartment, the door clicks shut with a finality that makes the room feel suddenly vast and quiet. I exhale, the tension between Hannah and me returning in the absence of our visitors. The silence stretches for a beat too long before I finally speak.

“I'm really sorry about yesterday.” My voice is quiet, almost pleading. “You and Conrad didn’t deserve that snarky comment I made.”

Hannah stands near the window, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes distant as she looks outside. The fading evening light casts shadows across her face, highlighting the guarded expression she wears. She finally turns to face me, her voice cold but controlled. “You're right. We didn’t deserve it. But that’s not why I’m mad.” She takes a few slow steps toward me, her eyes narrowing slightly with each one until she’s standing directly in front of me. “I'm mad because you got too drunk to leave the party with your parents, and instead, you ended up sleeping with Astrid.”

I flinch inwardly at the accusation. “Oh,” I mutter, searching for the right words. “But nothing happened, I promise.”

She lets out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “And why should I believe that?”

Taking a deep breath, I take one step forward, closing the distance between us. Gently, I hold her arms and look straightinto her eyes. “Because I love you, Hannah. You're the only woman I want to be with.”

For a moment, she stares back at me, the skepticism still lingering in her eyes. But then, something shifts. With a wicked, playful glint in her eyes, she pushes the map aside and hops up onto the table, crossing her legs in a deliberately coy manner. Her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Why don't you come here?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost teasing. “I'm done talking for now.”

The shift in her attitude and the energy in the room is so thick I can taste it. All I can do is stare, her words searing into me, a command I can't even imagine disobeying. I'm at her feet before the thought has a chance to settle, leaning forward, hands braced on the tabletop on either side of her legs. One inch. That’s all the space separating us now.

“Satisfied?” I manage through the thick fog that seems to have surrounded us in this darkened room. The only other place I'm aware of is the spot between her thighs, where I'm suddenly desperate to be.

Hannah answers with a kiss, her mouth suddenly on mine, her tongue swiping along the seam of my lips, requesting, no, demanding entrance. I grant it without a second thought. She tangles her hands in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer, and I find my hands reaching for her thighs, the skin beneath the denim heating my palms.

I need more of her. I need to see her. Taste her. Make her quake beneath me. Give her that same all-encompassing desire she makes me feel. “You're testing me,” I tell her. “This is not the place for this, Hannah.”

“Any place that we're together is the right place,” she insists, pulling my head to the side and pressing searing kisses to the skin of my neck. I feel like I'm on fire and willing tobe consumed. But there's something, some self-restraint that refuses to give in so easily.

“Hannah,” I growl, but she simply takes it as a challenge.

With a sultry laugh, she bites the juncture where my shoulder meets my neck. Before I can take another breath, my fingers are fumbling on the fly of her jeans, and she's wriggling them off, her ass bumping things off the desk in her hurry to get them off. Within moments, she’s bare from the waist down, her pale blue cotton panties taunting me with what they hide beneath them.

“Amelia could come back any time,” I tell her, fingers dimpling the soft flesh of her thighs. “But I think you like that, don't you? The thrill of being caught?”

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