Han's POV
I dashed out of the hospital wing, the weight of his glare still heavy on my back.
What a fool.
Who the hell throws themselves into the line of fire for someone they don't know? He didn't owe me a damn thing, yet there he was—stitched up, fuming, and still glaring at me like I was the one in the wrong.
Maybe he was just stupid. Or reckless.
Or maybe…
I smirked to myself.
He fell for me.
That would explain his earlier awkwardness. The way his cheeks flushed red, the way his eyes kept darting away like he was afraid to look directly at me.
Interesting.
My phone buzzed, snapping me from my thoughts. Without skipping a beat, I answered.
"The chip has been successfully shipped to Russia," Alariel's voice came through cold and precise, as efficient as always. "Three lives were lost. Seven are hospitalized."
I took a slow breath, letting the information settle. Alariel wasn't just an operative; she was a machine. Ruthless. Precise. Never one to hesitate. A blade in the shape of a woman.
"And the rest?" I asked, stepping into the elevator.
"Not even a strand of their hair remains," she replied.
Satisfaction spread through me. "Good work."
A slight pause. Then her voice softened, though still sharp. "I heard you were attacked."
I leaned against the elevator wall, rolling my shoulders. "Yeah. A random stranger saved me."
"Alive?"
"Barely."
Silence stretched before she spoke again, more thoughtfully. "That guy needs questioning. No one does something like that without a reason. Unless he wants something...your trust."
Sharp as always.
I pressed my fingers to my temple, the weight of her words sinking in. "I've questioned him already. He seems... genuine. But I'll run a background check."
Alariel hummed, a low sound of approval mixed with skepticism. "I'll be back tomorrow evening."
"Be safe," I replied, ending the call.
With a sigh, I made my way to the billing desk, clearing his hospital fees with a swipe of my card. A small price to pay for the potential of something bigger.
Something told me Tyler wasn't just some reckless idiot.
He was going to be useful.
Hours had barely passed, yet here I was, standing in Edward's dimly lit office. The glow from the monitors flickered, casting shifting green and blue hues across the cluttered room.
Edward sat hunched over his desk, as always, his thick glasses reflecting the multiple screens before him. He looked exactly how I imagined a man who hadn't seen sunlight in years—big-bellied, rough-bearded, wearing a band T-shirt that stretched a little too tight across his gut. A half-empty beer bottle sat beside his keyboard, and another slid across the desk toward me.
I waved it off. "No, thanks."
Edward grunted but didn't push. His fingers clicked away at the keyboard, lines of code cascading down the screens at a pace only he could keep up with.
"So," he drawled, voice rough from years of smoking, "this guy you want me to look into. Who is he?"
I leaned against the desk, watching the screens. "Tyler Lockwood. Blonde. Twenty-three. Reckless. Apparently likes taking bullets for strangers."
Edward snorted, barely looking up from his work. "Sounds like a moron."
I hummed. "Maybe."
The room fell into a quiet rhythm the clicking of keys, the occasional slurp from Edward's beer.
It started like a routine scan. Then his typing slowed. His brow furrowed. Edward leaned closer to the screen.
I drummed my fingers on the desk. "What?"
Edward squinted, scrolling quickly. Then he let out a low whistle. "Oh, I take it back. This guy's interesting as hell."
I raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
He flicked through a few windows, his fingers flying across the keys. "Tyler Lockwood. That's his name. Currently staying under an alias-Eric Lawson at Rosewood Drive. Liveswith a girlfriend, Anne Gilbert."
Girlfriend.
The word felt like a thorn in my side. Irritating. But I pushed it away.
"Go on," I urged.
Edward smirked but didn't comment on my reaction. "He's a tech genius, boss. And get this—he used to work for The Falcons in L.A."
That got my attention.
"The Falcons?" I echoed, crossing my arms. "I thought they folded after the incident."
"Yeah, well, guess who was caught in that mess?" Edward tapped the screen. "My guess? He ran. Tried to start fresh."
A man on the run, with skills. A man who didn't hesitate to throw himself in front of danger. That sounded useful.
Edward glanced up, his eyes narrow. "He's not a threat, is he? No reason to keep tabs?"
I smirked, pushing myself off the desk. "Oh no. He's definitely useful."
Edward sighed, muttering under his breath as he took another swig of beer. But before I could leave, I noticed something. Edward had left out key details. Like the fact that Tyler Lockwood was more than just an ex-Falcons hacker—he was a legend in the tech world. The reason The Falcons collapsed? They were shut down after one of their hackers breached a government system—one of their own. Tyler had been caught in the fallout, left with nowhere to go.
Edward was careful not to tell me everything. I could see it in his eyes. He thought I might replace him. After all, Tyler was an expert. But I already knew.
I snatched the wine Edward had offered earlier and, in one smooth motion, spilled it all over his computer.
"Tell me the truth," I demanded, voice cold.
Edward froze, eyes wide, but he didn't try to deny it. He knew I always knew when someone was lying.
He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Fine. Tyler Lockwood was a key player in The Falcons. Their star hacker. They sent him after the government's system, and he hacked it single-handedly. That's why they shut the company down. Afterward? He had nothing left. So, yeah. He's stuck in hiding now."
I let his words settle. A genius on the run, with nowhere and no one. That was someone I could use.
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"A lost, smart blonde in my care," I mused aloud. "Interesting."