For a moment, the receptionist’s fingers stilled over her phone screen. She looked me up and down, then sighed, tapping something on her desk.
“Fine.He’s at one of the construction sites. I don’t know which one, but you can try the East Sector. Should be the biggest one going on right now.”
“Be specific.”
She narrowed her eyes. “The Luminosa Project. You can find it on Google Maps.”
I didn’t even thank her. Grabbing my purse, I spun on my heel and started toward the door. I could hear her voice fading behind me.
“I mean, you’re welcome!” She called after me. “Maleducata.”
I made a mental note to ask Theo what her issue was—right after I killed him.
I took a taxi to this site because I didn’t need the hotel driver trying to warn him I was coming. When we finally reached the site, I barely took a second to assess the chaotic buzz of activity before I stepped out of the car.
Workers shouted orders, machines rumbled loudly, and the scent of wet concrete filled the air. It wasn’t the cleanest or safest place, and my heels crunched against scattered gravel as I moved toward the construction zone nonetheless.
But I didn’t give a fuck—I was here to make sure I got my answers.
Theo wasn’t hard to spot.
He stood at the center of it all, clipboard in hand, talking to a few other workers. But his reaction when he saw me? That was immediate. His eyes went wide, and I could see the muscles in his forearm flex as he broke away from the group.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice panicked.
“I’m here to talk to you,” I said, standing firm.
He stepped closer, his eyes scanning me, his body language shifting from concern to irritation. “Sweetness. This is a dangerous place. Can we talk later?”
“No,” I shot back, my voice tight with barely restrained anger. “Did you block Marcus’s number?”
Theo’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t flinch or hesitate. He just looked at me like he expected this. Then, in one swift motion, his hand shot out to grab my arm, pulling me to the side of the site, away from the noise and bustle of the workers.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” he said flatly, like it was a simple fact.
I let out a sharp breath of frustration. “He’s my boss, Theodore! What were you thinking?”
He winced. Subtle, but there.
“Baby. Please,” he said, and his tone was softened and strained. “I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry, alright? But I really need you to go. I’d love to have this conversation at home, and we will. But you need to leave. It’s not safe out here.”
“Idon’t careif it’s not safe!” I snapped, pulling my arm out of his grasp. “You can not micromanage my entire fucking life, Theodore!”
“Baby, please—”
“No, don’tbabyme right now.” My chest was heaving. “What? You don’t want me messing up your job but you can fuck around in mine?”
“That’s not it—”
“You don’t get to scheme and hide shit, then hit me with ‘baby, please’ like I’m overreacting. That’s not how this works!”
He grabbed both my shoulders in a way that stopped my movement.
“Sweetness, I need you to hear me. I was wrong. Okay? I shouldn’t have blocked him. I’ll fix it, I promise. But you have to get out of here before you get hurt. Just—let me get you a car. I can’t leave right now, but I can’t let you stay here. Please.”
