Vanessa
I followed Adam to a small table near the ice cream stand, my steps measured and my expression carefully neutral.
My bodyguard sat a few tables away, exactly where I expected him to be, his posture relaxed but his attention unmistakably fixed on me. I didn't dare look at him directly, but I could feel it.
Adam pulled out a chair for me like a gentleman, the gesture almost amusing considering the quiet tension already forming between us.
As I sat, he took the seat across from me, setting his ice cream down casually before reaching into his jacket. Without a word, he slid something across the table toward me, his movements smooth and deliberate.
An FBI badge.
My fingers twitched slightly against my lap, but I didn't touch it, didn't dare draw attention to it. When I finally lifted my gaze to him, he was already watching me, his brown eyes steady, unreadable, almost as if he had been waiting for that exact reaction.
