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Chapter 460
Chapter 460:
“Goodnight, June,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on her flushed cheeks.
“Goodnight,” June murmured. She turned and walked quickly into the lobby, feeling his gaze on her back until the glass doors slid shut behind her.
Inside the elevator, she pressed her cool palm against her burning cheek and forced herself to breathe. She tried to push Easton’s dark, intense eyes out of her mind.
The elevator chimed. June walked down the quiet hallway and pressed her thumb against the biometric scanner of her front door. The deadbolt clicked open.
She stepped into the dark apartment — and did not notice the microscopic scratch on the biometric scanner’s casing, the only trace of a highly sophisticated, military-grade signal cloner that had momentarily bypassed her security. Outside, on an adjacent rooftop, a Ghost Team operative was frantically reporting an anomalous energy signature near the target’s door: a professional intrusion that had already breached their perimeter.
𝖣𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖯𝖣𝖥𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗈𝗇
“Snowball,” June called out, a soft smile returning to her face. “I’m home p>
Ordinarily, the sound of her voice would bring the fluffy white Angora rabbit bounding across the hardwood floor to greet her.
Tonight, there was absolute silence.
June frowned. She reached out and flipped the light switch.
Her eyes swept across the living room and stopped at the edge of the Persian rug near the glass coffee table.
The heavy lockbox slipped from her fingers. It struck the hardwood floor with a deafening crash.
Snowball was lying on his side. His small body was contorting in violent, unnatural spasms.
“No!” June screamed.
She sprinted across the room and dropped to her knees, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she reached for him.
The rabbit’s eyes were rolled back in his head. Thick white foam bubbled from his mouth, staining his pristine fur. His breathing came in rapid, wet wheezes — the sound of something drowning.
A wave of absolute, paralyzing terror crashed over her. The world tilted violently.
In the cold, isolated fortress she had built after leaving Cole, this tiny, fragile animal was her only source of unconditional warmth. He was her emotional anchor.
“Hold on, hold on,” June sobbed, her chest heaving.
She frantically dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. She tried to search “24-hour emergency vet,” but her fingers trembled so badly she kept striking the wrong keys. The phone slipped from her sweaty grip and clattered to the floor.
A cold sweat broke across her forehead. Snowball let out a weak, agonizing squeak.
June’s rational mind shut down completely. She snatched the phone off the floor, her thoughts screaming at her to find a vet, to handle it herself the way she always handled everything. But the image of Easton’s calm, capable hands cutting her steak — the steadying weight of his voice cutting through the tension of the car — rose unbidden, like an anchor in the storm. Before she could second-guess the impulse, she pressed redial on her recent calls.
The phone rang exactly once.