Leonard's POV
The flight to Japan was the longest ten hours of my life. I couldn't sit still. I paced the aisle of the private jet, my mind looping through every second of that night. The way she tasted, the way she trembled under my touch, and those sea-blue eyes that had haunted my dreams for a year.
As soon as we landed in Tokyo, my driver was waiting. The tracker had sent over a digital file with everything he had found. I pulled out my tablet, my fingers shaking slightly as I swiped through the data.
"Name: Samantha Phillip," I read aloud. "Age: 28. Occupation: Salesperson at a local coffee shop. Marital Status: Divorced."
I froze, staring at the screen. Twenty-eight? The girl in the mask had felt younger—much younger. Her energy had been raw, almost innocent despite her fire. And a divorcee? My Samantha had mentioned a boyfriend, but she hadn't mentioned a husband.
Maybe she lied about everything, I thought, my jaw tightening.
