CHAPTER 27

As Thiago stepped out of the room, leaving me alone on the bed, the lingering warmth of our interrupted encounter slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a cold, creeping sense of unease. I couldn’t just lie there, waiting for him to return.

The nagging questions in my mind refused to be silenced, and I knew I needed answers.

I pulled on a robe and quietly followed Thiago, the soft padding of my feet on the floor the only sound in the otherwise silent house. His voice, low and controlled, drifted from his study, where the door was slightly ajar.

I hesitated, not wanting to eavesdrop, but my curiosity got the better of me.

“This had better be important,” I heard him say, his tone clipped and authoritative.

There was a pause as the person on the other end spoke, and I strained to hear, catching only a few scattered words—“Miami,” “security breach,” “target.” My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat.

Was this about me?

Thiago’s response was curt, “I want a full report