One week until the wedding.
I stare at my computer screen. Data scrolls through my LLM model, and the AI starts looking for patterns. It’s taking a while, so I switch away to a map of the surrounding neighborhood studded by little red dots.
According to the dossier Fong gave me, the watch was on Iron Head’s person starting at six that morning until midnight that evening when he realized it was missing. He backtracked, but he’d been to at least half a dozen meetings during that time. The last few pings were all only partial hits and could’ve been at any of his locations between four and ten that evening. Then the watch went silent and hasn’t made contact since.
The LLM finishes its analysis, but there’s nothing. It just scraped every new auction listing online in the last two days for any watches that match the image Iron Head provided of the object I’m looking for, but there are only a bunch of partial matches. Whoever took the thing isn’t trying to sell it, at least nowhere public.
It’s more than a little frustrating. I’ve been at this for a week and hit dead end after dead end, and there’s only one little distraction keeping me sane through it all.
Riley jogs across the street, and I put my car into gear.
I noticed her pretty early on. It turns out that Iron Head has some kind of potential deal going on with the McGraths. He was over at Riley’s place having dinner with her father the night the watch disappeared, and her house is somewhere in the center of my search location.
Which means I get to study her habits.
Like how every morning around nine she goes for a jog down the block, toward the harbor, and into a little park. She makes three loops around the path there before heading back home for a total of six miles at a pace of around eight minutes per mile. Then she spends a few minutes stretching out front in the sun, her beautiful auburn hair shining, sweat sheening her pale skin.
My future wife is fucking flexible.
Today, she’s right on track for her usual average. I find a spot near the park and get out of my car. I take a leisurely walk down into the grass, angling for a group of trees overlooking a pedestrian bridge. She passes this way on all of her laps before she heads back home, and it’s the perfect spot to stay hidden.
I’m thinking about the watch as I settle in to wait for a glimpse of my future wife.
I can understand now why Iron Head passed it off to me. Maybe he could’ve used his own team for this incredibly frustrating wild goose chase, but that would be a waste of resources. Instead, better to outsource it to some fucking idiot willing to burn hours hunting for something that’s probably long gone by now.
Whoever took the watch probably deactivated the transmitter. I’m willing to bet good money it’s somewhere in Asia or Europe being cracked by a team of talented hackers.
But I still have to try. Mantis isn’t going to accept failure. I’m barely keeping myself calm as Riley comes into view, her hair streaming behind her, running along at a steady pace. Long, athletic legs, great thighs, fantastic ass. She’s wearing a very loose crop top today, one that barely covers her sports bra, and I feel a strange burning possessiveness in my chest. Does she really need to show off that much of her body?
Heads turn when she runs past, but all that skin is mine.
Or it will be mine soon.
I still don’t want to marry her. This was never my idea. But when Arsen came to me personally and made it clear that I was his first choice for this match, I couldn’t turn him down. When the patron makes a request, a good soldier jumps to obey. And I’ve been nothing but loyal all these days.
They’ve rewarded me. Tigran especially has pulled me up through the ranks and given me more and more responsibilities and bigger and bigger paychecks.
But I can’t help feeling a little frustrated by the situation.
I stare down at the path, waiting for her to show. At this point, I’m so used to her pace that I can anticipate when she’ll show up. Excitement fills my stomach and makes my mouth water. I still obsess over the memory of her spreading her legs in my bed and moaning my name while wearing my shirt.
“Hey, creep, why are you always—”
I turn around, my mouth falling open in surprise.
Riley’s standing a few feet away, looking just as shocked as I am.
Recognition blooms in her face. She’s glistening with sweat and looking fucking glorious. My future wife is petite but athletic with a fantastic figure, full lips, thick hair, and a sloping little nose. Irish through and through.
“Hello, Riley,” I say, trying not to break out into a massive smile.
“You.” She steps back. “It’s you. But I don’t—Why are you—What are you doinghere?!”
“I wanted to check up on my little thief.” I can’t suppress the brutal smirk anymore. God, I’ve wanted this meeting for weeks now, but I’ve been holding back.
I’m too obsessed with some random girl for my own good.
I know myself and my tendencies, and sometimes I get way too wrapped up in things. Jobs can drive me crazy. I don’t sleep or eat for days when I have a particularly nasty problem. Hobbies can send me spiraling down rabbit holes too. I once lost an entire week to Wikipedia.
I’ve never felt this way for a person before, and that’s making me deeply uncomfortable.
But now there she is, in the flesh, standing ten feet away.
“You’ve been following me,” she says, eyes going wide. “I noticed you a few days ago. It’s been you every time, hasn’t it?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have great running form?”
Her mouth twitches like she’s fighting a smile. “I’m a physical specimen. That’s not the point.”
“It’s my point. I come here to watch you run. That’s all.”
“And now I go back to my original question. Why are you always staring at me, creep?”
I grin fully, heart beating hard and steady. She doesn’t back away when I move closer to her. “I’m staring because I can’t stop thinking about my thief with her legs spread on my bed—”
“Don’t you dare start that,” she says sharply, glaring at me. “We’re not doing that right now.”
“Doing what? You asked and I’m answering.”
“No, you’re doing the filthy talk thing. You think I don’t know your tricks?”
“No tricks, baby.”
Just obsession.
“Either way, you’re not supposed to be here.” She glances around her, smile disappearing. “Look, seriously, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I can get in trouble if anyone finds out we’re talking.”
“You were told to stay away from me?”
She nods once. “My family thinks I’ll bolt if we have any contact. They’re just being paranoid, but you know how it is when the boss gives an order.”
“I’m aware,” I say gently, head tilted, studying the curve of her throat and the steady rise and fall of her chest as she continues to catch her breath.
I want to lick the sweat from her upper lip.
Fuck, I’m a broken freak.
“Have you really been here every morning?” she asks hesitantly. There’s a playful smile on her lips.
I think she likes that I’ve been watching her.
“For a little more than a week.”
“God, you’re so weird.” Her smile gets bigger. “The cameras in your room, the random texts, and now this.” She groans and wipes her face with her hands, forcing the smile away. “Fuck, what am I marrying?”
“A man who knows what he wants.”
“And you think you want me?”
“I don’t know what you are yet, little thief—”
“Stop calling me that.”
“—but I plan on finding out.”
Her throat works as she swallows. She looks around again and backs away. “I can’t tell you what you’re allowed to do, okay? All I know is I’m not supposed to have contact. If you want to show up during my runs like a fucking creep, there’s not much I can do to stop you. It’s a public park.”
“Every morning at nine,” I say gently, staring into her pale green eyes. I love the way the sunlight sparkles off them.
I’m going to go home and stroke my cock thinking about those pretty fucking eyes staring up at me as my dick disappears down her throat.
“It’s a date.” She turns away. “You creep.” Then she’s off, hurrying away, and I lean against a tree with a smile on my face.
