6. Madelyn

CHAPTER 6

Madelyn

I break out of the water with a sharp gasp, the chill pressing against my skin like an old friend. The water is cold enough to sting, but I barely notice it. I take a deep breath, let it fill my lungs, and then push off the edge of the pool. My arms slice through the water in perfect rhythm, one stroke after another, until I reach the other side.

For a moment, I stay submerged, hovering just beneath the surface. The world up there doesn’t exist right now. None of my problems exist. And a certain gray-eyed man who wrecked my entire world two days ago also doesn’t exist. It’s quiet down here, peaceful. My happy place.

The muffled stillness wraps around me like a blanket, silencing the noise that constantly hums in my brain. I resurface slowly, taking a deep breath, and lean against the pool’s edge. The second-floor windows are fogged up from the heat inside clashing with the chill outside, but I can still make out the glow of streetlights from below. The city is only just waking up. The clock on the wall of the pool area read 6:24 a.m. I’ve been here for thirty minutes.

I can hear the faint hum of treadmills starting up downstairs, which means gym members are starting to arrive. That’s my cue to leave. My teeth chatter slightly as I climb out of the pool. Swimming with winter fast approaching is an activity many people might avoid, but it’s comforting to me. A sort of coping mechanism. Is it unhealthy? Sure. But it works.

I grab the towel I’d laid out on the patio chair, tilting my head back to run it through my wet hair. I close my eyes for a second. My muscles are loose now, tired in that good way that only swimming brings. My breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of the faint ripples in the water. I feel lighter.

The sound of the pool door opening pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, Maddie. Are you done?”

I turn to look at Thomas, the middle-aged owner of the building. I flash him a smile of gratitude. Most people wouldn’t let me into the pool this early but Thomas makes an exception for me.

“Yes, thanks, Tom.”

“How you swim in this temperature is beyond me,” he states, crossing his arms around his chest.

His blue eyes trail down, resting on my breasts for a moment before moving to my legs. I’m not sure what he’s even looking at, considering I’m all covered up today. I had to wear a swimsuit instead of a bikini like I would usually wear thanks to the fact that there’s still a handprint visible on my ass. Dominic’s handprint. The past two days have been filled with him constantly occupying space in my head. I can still feel him inside of me and it aches a little when I move.

The effect he’s had on me is staggeringly ridiculous. Get a grip, Madelyn.

“You know me, Tom,” I say in reply. “I’ll swim in any weather. Anyway, I’ve got to get to work. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome,” he says on a nod, offering me a smile that I return.

He’s kind of a perv but a harmless one. Look at me all you want, but once you touch, it becomes a problem. I offer him a short wave as I make my way to the changing room.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking out of the building. It’s three stories with a gym, a pool, and a spa. I’ve been coming here since I moved to the neighborhood five years ago. And while I use the pool religiously, I’ve never been to the gym and I went to the spa only once, when Thomas gave me a voucher.

It’s a five-minute walk to my house. By the time I arrive at the driveway, the sun is just beginning to rise. My little house sits at the end of a quiet street. It’s nothing too fancy—just a small two-bedroom place with a white fence and a green front door that I repainted myself last spring.

I head inside, letting out a sigh of relief as the familiar warmth greets me. The scent of cinnamon lingers in the air, thanks to the candle I forgot to blow out last night. My living room is the first thing you see when you walk in. It’s a cozy room with a plush gray couch and a coffee table covered in half-read books and yesterday’s mug of peppermint tea. The real showstopper is the Christmas tree in the corner.

I got it last week. While I’m aware it’s way too early for a tree, Christmas trees get more expensive the closer it gets to the holiday. I’ve already decorated mine with an almost obsessive attention to detail. Twinkling white lights, shiny red and gold ornaments, and a star on top that’s slightly crooked but charming in its imperfection. The whole room glows, even in the dim morning light.

I drop my bag by the door and head into the kitchen, where the countertops are spotless except for a single coffee mug by the sink. There’s a stack of Christmas cookie cutters on the counter—snowflakes, candy canes, and reindeer. I only just got them. I might not like to cook but baking Christmas cookies is a family tradition I never ignore.

Beside them, my laptop sits open, its screen still displaying the case files I was working on last night. I forgot to turn it off and leave it to me to disable the sleep option to boost productivity.

When I first got the house, I had a roommate, but she moved out after a year and I was already earning enough by then to pay for the house on my own. Now, the second bedroom serves as my home office, though “office” might be a generous term. It’s more of a storage space for stacks of files, an old cork board pinned with case notes, and a whiteboard covered in scribbled diagrams that only make sense to me and conspiracy theories I’ve developed in relation to cases. My job doesn’t exactly come with an off switch, and when there’s a dangerous criminal out there, I’m constantly thinking of ways to help catch them. Despite only being an intelligence analyst.

I head into my bedroom, which is my favorite place in the house. There’s a fluffy white comforter on my bed and fairy lights strung along the walls. It’s cozy, safe. There’s a plaid throw blanket draped over the foot of the bed and the scent of lavender from the diffuser on the dresser fills the air.

I let out a long breath, kicking off my sneakers and heading back to the kitchen to make a fresh cup of coffee. I have about an hour until I have to be at work. It’s a new week and I plan to start it fresh. No more thoughts of Dominic or the time I spent with him.

It’s over. I’m never going to see him again.

There’s a pep in my step as I walk into the office, armed with a smile and a Starbucks coffee cup. I offer one of my coworkers a smile and a wave as I head into the elevator. Someone slides their hand inside, stopping the doors from closing at the last moment.

“Hey gorgeous,” Kenny greets, entering the elevator and standing beside me.

“Hi, Kenny. How was your weekend?”

“It was alright. Yours?”

Let’s see… I was almost assaulted, then I woke up in a stranger’s bed, after he saved me and took me to his home. I also ended up sleeping with said stranger before practically running away from his home at five in the morning.

I have no idea why I ran. Or maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit I was scared. I’ve never felt like that after sex. He delivered on his promise, though. Dominic didn’t have sex with me—he fucked me. So hard that I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with another man without remembering how he made me feel.

But I can’t keep thinking about that. It’s over. If I’m lucky, I’ll never cross paths with him again.

“My weekend was pretty boring, Kenny,” I reply. “I’m in the mood for excitement.”

He groans. “Don’t say that. We could get a new serial killer on our hands or some bullshit like that.”

I grin. “True. No excitement, then.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, though. Joshua texted me last night. We’re getting a new coworker.”

My brows furrow. “What? Why? An agent in the field or…?”

Kenny shrugs. “Couldn’t tell you. We’ll meet them at the morning brief.”

I huff out a breath. “Okay.”

The break room hums with the quiet shuffle of papers and low murmur of conversation. My Starbucks cup is cradled in my hands like a lifeline, the rich, warm scent keeping me sane as I try to focus on the notes in front of me.

Kenny leans over from his seat beside me, whispering something about how the office coffee tastes like burned regret. I snort softly, trying not to spill the cup in my hand.

“You’re just spoiled,” I whisper back, taking a sip. “You want artisanal coffee, go work for Google.”

He grins, but before he can respond, the door swings open with a creak and our boss strides in. Joshua looks like his usual self, tie slightly askew and hair slightly messy, but he still somehow pulls it off.

“Morning, everyone,” he announces. “I hope you’re all awake, because we’ve got a busy day ahead.”

I glance at the clock. It’s 8:05 a.m. Too early for whatever’s about to happen. I take another sip of my coffee, bracing myself for the rundown of our current case. But then Joshua steps aside and someone walks in behind him.

Someone I know.

The coffee in my mouth freezes mid-sip and my heart drops like a brick to the pit of my stomach. Because standing there in my workplace, wearing an impeccably tailored suit with his signature unbothered expression, is Dominic.

Dominic.

The same Dominic that saved me Friday night. The same Dominic that fucked my brains out that same night. The same Dominic I was most definitely was not expecting to see again, let alone here.

I do the only reasonable thing my brain can process at the moment—I choke on my coffee. It’s not a cute, subtle choke either. It’s a full-on, wide-eyed, cough-spluttering, coffee-spraying disaster.

“Maddie?” Kenny’s voice is sharp, concerned.

A few other coworkers also shoot me worried looks. I wave them off, coughing into my sleeve as I grab a napkin to wipe the table in front of me. My face feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t even look up right now.

Joshua pauses, glancing between me and Dominic with raised eyebrows. “Uh… you good, Maddie?”

“Peachy,” I manage to rasp, still dabbing at the coffee stains.

I force a tight smile, hoping no one notices the way my hands are trembling. Dominic steps further into the room, his face completely blank, like he doesn’t even recognize me. It’s infuriating. I can feel Kenny staring at me, probably wondering why I look like I’ve seen a ghost.

Joshua clears his throat. “Everyone, this is Dominic Hale. He’s joining our team as an intelligence analyst. Dominic, this is the team. Be nice.”

He’s joining the team as a what now?

Dominic’s eyes briefly meet mine and for the faintest second, there’s something there, maybe a flicker of amusement. But it’s gone so quickly I almost doubt I saw it. I press my lips together and clench my fists so hard I almost break a nail. Everyone’s saying hi to Dominic, some of the women are visibly swooning at the sight of him.

I roll my eyes. This can’t be happening. He’s directed to one of the chairs in the room and the meeting continues as usual. I stay quiet through it all, trying to contain the emotions brewing inside of me. I don’t even hear a word until Joshua calls for an end to the meeting.

As soon as he does, I’m racing out of my seat after him. I don’t even glance at the donut station as I move with purpose. He knows I’m following him but he doesn’t turn around or acknowledge me until we’re inside his office.

“Maddie,” he says slowly, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

“We don’t need another intelligence analyst,” I state, ignoring his request.

He sighs, leaning on the edge of his desk, “I understand you might not be comfortable with this, but Dominic could be a good addition to the team. I’ve seen firsthand what he can do. He’s quite capable. This has nothing to do with your skills, of course; you’re capable as well. I just thought you needed an extra hand. His position is also short-term, temporary.”

I huff out a frustrated breath. “You can’t hire him, Joshua. I don’t need any help.”

His expression grows tighter. “The decision’s already been made.”

“How do you even know him?” I burst out.

And what the hell is he doing here of all places? This is so, so wrong.

Joshua sighs again. “Don’t take this wrong way, Maddie, but that’s none of your business.”

My jaw clenches. “Right. Of course. You hire the guy to take my job but I can’t even ask what your relationship is with him.”

“He’s not taking your job,” Joshua says sternly. “And I’d like to know why you have such a big issue with him, Flores.”

I groan softly before throwing my hands up in the air. “Nothing. It’s fine,” I mutter.

“If that’ll be all, you can leave.”

Dismissed, I head out of his office. As soon as I do, I hear his low, masculine voice.

“And here I thought you’d be glad to see me, Madelyn.”

He’s leaning against the wall beside the office door. I glare at him for a couple of seconds before grabbing his arm and dragging him to a more deserted corner of the hallway. He lets himself be dragged and doesn’t protest when I push him against the wall.

“Are you stalking me?” I snap.

He smiles at that. It’s not a nice smile, more menacing and chill-inducing.

“And why would you think that?”

“How did you get a job here? And why did you take the job? You have to have known I was working here.”

He doesn’t reply, reverting to silence in that infuriating way. The urge to scream hits me but I inhale a soft breath, trying to calm myself down.

“You know what? It’s fine. You don’t need this job anyway. So just quit and everyone can go on their merry way,” I tell him.

His eyes narrow, gray orbs darkening slightly. He grabs my arm and whirls me around so that I’m the one being pressed against the wall instead. My heart skips a beat when he rests his hands on both sides of my head, effectively caging me in.

“Who do you think you are to give me orders?” he growls.

I swallow softly. “You need to leave, Dominic. You can’t work here.”

“And why is that?”

My lips thin and I don’t reply. He knows why just as well as I do.

“Does your obvious discomfort with my being here have anything to do with what happened on Friday night?”

“Nothing happened,” I say monotonously, making sure to look him in the eye.

“Such a dirty little liar,” he murmurs. “Careful, Madelyn. You don’t want to piss me off.”

“Fuck you.”

His eyes narrow further.

“So what if we had sex? I was bored. It meant nothing,” I snarl.

“Really? It sure didn’t mean nothing when you came twice around my cock.”

My body grows warm, the weight of his presence driving my body into hyperaware mode. I glare up at him, trying to pretend to be unaffected. The keyword being “trying” because I’m pretty sure the bastard is very aware of my reaction to him.

“You’re never getting near me again,” I promise, the anger I was feeling earlier nowhere near diminished.

He smirks before leaning down and licking my earlobe. I jerk, swallowing back a moan.

“You’ll pay for all these little unnecessary lies later, Madelyn,” he promises, his voice a slithering whisper. “I’m not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

And then he’s pulling away, walking down the hallway to God knows where. I close my eyes and press a hand to my chest, trying to regulate my breathing and regain control of my body and mind. My mind whirs as I try to think of a solution to my predicament.

This cannot be happening.