Rowan POV
Daniel opens the door looking like someone who hasn't slept.
His eyes are red. His dark curly hair is pushed back like he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. He's wearing a gray shirt that's wrinkled and expensive in a way that speaks of old money pretending not to care about money. Behind him the penthouse is chaos. Glass everywhere. Bullet holes in the walls. The physical evidence of someone trying to kill him.
Rowan's chest tightens looking at him.
But Rowan's face stays blank. Professional. Cold. Everything the version of himself called James Morrison should be.
Daniel looks at him for a long moment like he's searching for something he can't name.
For a second, Rowan thinks it's over. Thinks Daniel is going to recognize him despite the three years of distance. Despite the way Rowan has learned how to make himself into someone unrecognizable. Despite the careful control that has replaced every emotion.
Then Daniel looks away.
The moment passes.
"Mr. Hart?" Rowan says. His voice is different from how it used to be. Harder. Professional. The voice of someone who has killed thirty-seven people and felt nothing doing it. "I'm James Morrison. I work in private security. Senator Williams recommended me."
Rowan had never actually worked with Senator Williams. But James Morrison's credentials would check out because Sebastian is the kind of friend who knows how to make fake identities into real ones.
Daniel steps back. He looks exhausted in a way that goes beyond one sleepless night. Like three years of exhaustion is finally catching up with him all at once.
"Come in," Daniel says.
Rowan enters the penthouse and Daniel closes the door behind him. The space is exactly as Rowan remembers it from three years ago when he used to break in and watch Daniel sleep. Except now it's damaged. Now it shows the violence of the attack.
"Your security team filed a report saying the breach was initiated from outside," Rowan says. He walks through the space like he's documenting it for the first time. Like he's not touching the furniture that Daniel touched. Like he's not breathing in the air that Daniel breathes. "They claim they had no warning. That the system was overridden before they could respond."
"That's what happened," Daniel says. He follows Rowan through the penthouse like he's still processing the fact that someone tried to kill him. "Or at least that's what I think happened. Someone shot through my window. Multiple shooters. And then..."
Daniel stops talking.
Rowan turns to look at him. Daniel's face is confused. Searching.
"And then someone came through the window," Daniel continues slowly. "Someone eliminated the threat. Moved like they were trained for exactly that situation. And then they disappeared."
Rowan's jaw tightens. He forces it to relax.
"Your security team is compromised," Rowan says flatly. "Every person protecting you is potentially part of the conspiracy to kill you. The shooter knew your location. Knew your schedule. Knew exactly when to strike."
"How do you know that?" Daniel asks. His intelligent brown eyes focus on Rowan with sudden intensity.
"Because if they wanted you dead and had legitimate access, you would be dead," Rowan says. "The fact that you're alive means something changed. Something interrupted their plan."
Daniel absorbs this information like it's just one more weight on top of the pile of weight he's already carrying.
"What do you recommend?" Daniel asks.
"Let me run your security. Personally. I have a team I trust. We remove everyone currently protecting you and replace them with people who have no connection to whatever organization is trying to kill you."
Daniel looks at him. Really looks at him. Like he's trying to see underneath the professional distance.
Rowan feels the weight of that attention like hands on his chest.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" Daniel says finally.
"No," Rowan says. "You don't."
That morning Rowan begins the process of securing the penthouse. Installing new security systems. Positioning safe exits. Cataloging every entrance and every potential threat.
But he also begins the process of walking through Daniel Hart's life.
His kitchen. Rowan opens Daniel's cabinets and sees the coffee he likes. Black. No sugar. No milk. Just coffee like it's penance. Rowan remembers bringing Daniel coffee in the mornings before everything fell apart. Remembers Daniel drinking it while scrolling through news on his phone looking for problems he could solve.
His bedroom. Rowan sets up motion sensors near the window and touches the pillows without meaning to. They smell like Daniel. Like the shampoo he uses. Like sleep and comfort and all the things Rowan gave up by leaving.
His office. Rowan finds photographs of Daniel shaking hands with politicians. Daniel speaking at rallies. Daniel building the life that Rowan forced him to build by disappearing.
In a drawer Rowan finds an old photograph. Daniel and someone else at a charity event three years ago. Daniel's arm around the waist of a man with dark hair and gray eyes. They're both smiling like the world isn't about to end.
Rowan is in that photograph.
He stares at it for exactly three seconds. Then he puts it back where he found it and continues working.
By afternoon Rowan has created a perimeter of security that makes the penthouse nearly impenetrable. Cameras in every corner. Motion sensors. Backup systems for backup systems. He's transformed Daniel's home into a fortress.
Daniel watches him work with exhaustion and something else. Something like recognition that Daniel can't quite place.
That's when Rowan makes his mistake.
He's standing in Daniel's living room when Daniel comes over to ask about the new security protocols. And for just a moment, Daniel is close enough that Rowan can see the exact shade of brown in his eyes. Can see the way his eyelashes catch the light. Can see the small scar on his chin from when he fell off a bike at age twelve.
Rowan's carefully constructed mask cracks.
Just for a moment. Just long enough that three years of grief shows through.
He looks at Daniel with eyes that hold everything. The love. The loss. The desperate ache of being so close to someone he loves and not being able to touch them.
Daniel stops moving.
His breath catches.
"What?" Daniel asks softly.
Rowan forces his face back into professional distance. But it's too late. Daniel has seen something. Daniel knows something is wrong.
"We should go over the new protocols," Rowan says. His voice comes out rough.
Daniel doesn't move. He stares at Rowan like he's trying to unlock a door with a key he's forgotten.
"You look familiar," Daniel says finally.
Rowan's heart stops beating.
"I have one of those faces," Rowan says.
But Daniel keeps staring at him. Keeps searching. Keeps trying to remember something that his brain locked away three years ago.
"I feel like I know you," Daniel whispers.
And Rowan realizes that the moment he's been dreading and desperately wanting is finally here.
Daniel is starting to remember.