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Chapter 687:
“Gray hoodie. Baseball cap. Frozen food section, three o’clock.” Easton’s thumb traced circles on her wrist, the gesture intimate and calming, completely at odds with the tension in his voice. “He’s been on us since the parking garage. He’s trying too hard not to look at us, and he’s holding his phone in a way that suggests he’s filming p>
June felt her stomach clench. She thought of Cole, of his obsessive tracking, his inability to accept her autonomy. She thought of the GPS in the Aston Martin, the blue button, the promise of safety that suddenly felt like surveillance.
“Easton p>
“Not Cole.” He released her wrist, his hand moving to the small of her back, guiding her toward the checkout with apparent casualness. His eyes swept the store with the precision of a man who had been trained to assess threats. “Wrong build. Wrong energy. This is professional. Someone hired. Someone with resources p>
They reached the checkout. Easton began unloading his cart, his movements efficient and unhurried. June watched him, her heart rate gradually slowing, her mind clicking into the analytical mode that had saved her life more than once.
“Who?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“I don’t know yet.” Easton swiped his card and gathered the bags, his eyes never ceasing their scan of the environment. “But I will. I have resources too, June. I have—” he stopped, his gaze fixing on something across the store, his expression hardening, “—I have people who owe me favors. People who can find out who hired a man to follow you through a grocery store p>
They walked to the exit, Easton’s hand on her elbow, his body angled to shield her from whatever threat he perceived. June felt the familiar surge of adrenaline, the fight-or-flight response that had become her default state.
N𝘰𝗏el𝗌 𝗶n 𝘵𝘳𝗲𝗇d o𝗇
But she also felt something else. Something new.
Trust. Not complete, not unconditional, but present. Growing.
She let Easton guide her to the car, let him open her door, let him check the back seat and the trunk before allowing her to enter.
And when he slid behind the wheel, his face set in lines of controlled fury, she reached across the console and found his hand.
“Drive,” she said. “And tell me what we’re going to do p>
Easton’s head turned. His eyes met hers, and she saw the surprise there, the pleasure, the fierce protective hunger he usually kept so carefully concealed.
“We’re going to find out who hired him,” he said. “And then we’re going to make sure they never threaten you again p>
He started the engine. The Aston Martin purred to life, powerful and waiting.
“Whatever it takes,” he added, and the words were not a threat but a promise.
June held his hand tighter, and they drove into the night.
The Love Media Group headquarters occupied the top fifteen floors of a building in Midtown that Crawford had purchased specifically because it allowed him to look down on the city he intended to own.
He stood now in his private office, the walls lined with screens displaying real-time data from markets around the world, and stared at the image on his tablet with an intensity that would have frightened anyone who knew him well enough to recognize it.