Page 43 of Lady and the Hitman
“But I don’t want that version of you.”
My chest tightened.
“I want the one you bury,” he said. “The one who aches. Who obeys. Who breaks apart when someone calls her a good girl.”
A full-body shiver rolled through me.
I could barely breathe, but I forced the next question out anyway.
“So why me?”
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, without hesitation. “Because you’re not like the others. You’re brave enough to walk into fire.”
“I didn’t know what I was walking into.”
“Exactly.”
His thumb brushed along the edge of my jaw, just once. “And you still came.”
My eyes burned. But not with fear. With the weight of being seen.
He pulled his hand back and picked up his glass again. Took a slow sip like he hadn’t just set my entire nervous system on fire.
I stared at him across the table.
“You never told me your name,” I said.
He tilted his head, considering.
Then leaned in once more, close enough for only me to hear.
“Ronan.”
The name hit like another touch. Solid. Grounded. Real.
He said it like a promise. Like a threat.
“Say it,” he said.
“Ronan.”
His eyes darkened.
“You have no idea what you just unlocked.”
I wanted to ask what he meant.
But I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough.
I couldn’t wait.
9
There was no explanation.
No itinerary. No hint. No warning.
Just the quiet glide of Ronan’s hand against the small of my back as we stepped out of the restaurant into the velvet heat of Miami night. The city buzzed around us, but none of it touched me.
