Chapter 5 - The Ex Who Came Back
Grant wanted to meet at a public café.
Anton wanted Grant buried beneath a public café.
Odessa compromised.
They met at a hotel restaurant under surveillance.
Grant looked exactly as Odessa remembered.
Handsome.
Polished.
Concerned in that carefully manufactured way he had always used before saying something cruel.
“God, Odessa.”
He reached toward her.
She moved back.
“Don’t.”
Grant noticed Anton 20 feet away.
“So it’s true.”
“What?”
“You’re sleeping with him.”
Odessa almost laughed.
“You haven’t seen me in 18 months and that’s your first concern?”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“You always called control protection.”
Grant’s face tightened.
There.
For the first time, Odessa saw it.
The irritation beneath the gentleness.
She wondered how she had missed it for years.
“What do you know about the container?”
Grant leaned forward.
“Kazarian’s organization has enemies. People who want his shipping network.”
“Which people?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Then we’re finished.”
She stood.
Grant grabbed her wrist.
Anton crossed the restaurant so quickly that Odessa barely saw him move.
His hand closed around Grant’s.
“Release her.”
Grant did.
Anton’s voice remained quiet.
“Touch her again and you’ll spend the rest of your life learning to hold a fork with your other hand.”
Odessa stared at him.
“Anton.”
He released Grant.
Grant rubbed his wrist.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about. He’s dangerous.”
Anton’s expression contained absolutely no disagreement.
Odessa sat again.
“Tell me who paid you.”
Grant looked between them.
“I made introductions. That’s all.”
“To whom?”
“A company called Meridian Coastal.”
Anton went still.
“Who runs it?”
Grant swallowed.
“Victor Saran.”
For the first time, Odessa saw genuine concern on Anton’s face.
“Who is Victor?”
Anton answered.
“My uncle.”
Odessa blinked.
“Your uncle stole from you?”
“He tried to take this company 8 years ago.”
Grant leaned forward.
“He’s trying again.”
Anton looked at him.
“Why tell us?”
Grant’s gaze shifted toward Odessa.
“Because Saran knows she found the manifest.”
“You told him.”
Silence.
Odessa’s stomach dropped.
“Grant?”
“I didn’t know they’d hurt you.”
“You gave them my name?”
“I needed money.”
Odessa stared at the man she had once believed she would marry.
“How much?”
“Odessa—”
“How much was I worth?”
His silence answered.
Anton stepped forward.
Odessa stopped him.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Don’t.”
Something in her face made him obey.
Odessa turned to Grant.
“You spent 2 years teaching me I wasn’t enough for you.”
Grant’s face changed.
“Come on.”
“No. You wanted thinner. Prettier. More ambitious. Less emotional. You changed the requirement every time I reached it because keeping me insecure kept me grateful.”
“Odessa—”
“And after all that, you sold information about me.”
“I didn’t know—”
“For how much?”
Grant whispered, “$20,000.”
Odessa laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“Wow.”
She stood.
“Apparently I appreciated in value after the breakup.”
Then she walked away.
Anton followed.
Outside, rain had begun.
Odessa made it 10 steps before tears came.
She hated them immediately.
“Don’t.”
Anton stopped behind her.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“No, you don’t.”
“That he’s an idiot.”
“He is.”
She laughed through the tears.
Anton approached carefully.
“He was wrong about you.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know you remember thousands of shipping numbers.”
She wiped her face.
“I know you stood up to me inside my own office. I know you were shot at and still insisted on packing your own underwear.”
A startled laugh escaped her.
“I know you found a theft my entire security division missed.”
He stepped closer.
“And I know every room changes when you finally decide you belong in it.”
Odessa stared at him.
“You practice that?”
“No.”
“It sounded practiced.”
“I’m very offended.”
She laughed again.
Anton touched her cheek.
This time she did not pull away.
His thumb brushed a tear beneath her eye.
“Odessa.”
She knew what came next.
So did he.
But Anton waited.
The choice remained hers.
Odessa closed the distance.
The kiss was gentle.
Almost shockingly so.
No ownership.
No demand.
Just warmth.
When they separated, Anton rested his forehead against hers.
Then his phone rang.
Luka.
Anton answered.
His face changed immediately.
“What?”
Odessa’s pulse accelerated.
Anton looked toward her.
“Victor’s men hit the warehouse.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Two guards.”
Luka said something else.
Anton became still.
“What did they take?”
He listened.
Then slowly looked at Odessa.
“What?”
Anton ended the call.
“They didn’t take anything.”
“Then why attack?”
“To deliver something.”
Odessa’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
May you like
Anton’s expression turned murderous.
“You.”
