Chapter 77 Trainer.

Chapter 77: 77 Trainer.

You’d think after everything that happened the previous day I’d be given a day off the rest—unfortunately there were three ladies in this house.

So Psyren’s screaming like the world had just ended was what woke me up with wide eyes.

I barrelled downstairs to see her fully dressed like she was going out and smiling at me.

"What the hell, Psyren?" I asked her still rubbing my eyes. "Why’d you scream?"

"Cause today’s the day we meet Lacey about my debut." She pouted. "C’mon, honey. Get dressed."

I groaned as I padded back up the stairs. Maybe I should’ve just died.

We loaded up into the car and hit the road once more, making sure that Rhea had the security system all keyed up.

"If anything happens, and I do mean anything, you call me immediately," I told her.

"Aw, Miles! You’re making me feel all special here," Rhea giggled with a wink.

But I could tell she’d do it. Rhea wasn’t an idiot, and clearly had a good understanding of the situation and what we were dealing with. Better than I did too. I only had her word about Delirium, but she had firsthand experience.

We reached Firefly Industry’s building in good time. First time I’d seen Lacey’s new building.

An absolute monolith of a place. Its resemblance to a tech company was weird but not unusual considering there wasn’t exactly a building type for hired villains organisation.

We parked near a fountain surmounted with a giant firefly, and I led Psyren inside.

Security dressed in stiff suits and earpieces have us a once over before letting us through and to the elevator. I had a lot of work with Firefly, and today it was going to be something special.

We went up to Lacey Davenport’s office, which dominated an entire corner of the building’s upper floor.

Instead to her normal assistant, by the door was her two new bodyguards. Brick & Stone.

"Here for a meeting." I told the two rock men as one of the tapped on their intercom.

"Miles, ma’am" he said, frowning at me. "Should we send in?" he said, into the intercom. "There’s also a guest with him."

"Hmm." He mused into the earpiece with a short nod. "You can go in now."

"She busy?" I asked them

They didn’t offer an answer. Just a shift past the door for us to walk in.

Firming my resolve with Psyren right beside me, I twisted the handle and walked straight into the predator’s private territory.

Lacey’s former office would’ve cried if it saw this one.

Floor-to-ceiling glass claimed the far wall completely, giving an unobstructed downward view of the city that felt engineered to remind every visitor how far below they stood.

The rest of the space stayed mostly bare on purpose, creating a huge, hollow expanse that swallowed sound and made ordinary people feel diminished the moment they stepped inside.

Along the remaining walls, deep shelves displayed an assortment of awards, strange sculptures, and costly curios that looked like they had been chosen more for intimidation than decoration.

Lacey herself finished the entire effect. On most days she would be seated behind the desk with her hands locked together, but she knew power plays better than anyone.

None of the usual staging was present this time. She occupied a yoga mat wearing only a sports bra and form-fitting pants, spine bent into a deep, deliberate curve.

Typical of her to keep everyone guessing.

"Mmm. Miles! So glad you could stop by," she called, angling her head so the loose waves of her hair framed her face and the tinted glasses she rarely removed. "What’d you think of the new office? Told you I was working on it."

"Yeah. Thanks," I answered, long past being startled by her habits. "And indeed you were. Guess you’re moving up the world."

Lacey treated moments like these as deliberate assertions of control, and the frustrating truth was that they succeeded. Not my fault though, I was trained against mobsters, cougars were another thing entirely.

Few tactics unsettled me faster than the open display of her figure, and she wasted no time leaning into that advantage.

She unfolded from the pose and rose smoothly, then kept her torso upright while lifting one leg and setting her foot on the desk edge, creating a sharp right angle that put her inner thighs on full show.

I made an effort not to fixate on the clear invitation she was offering and lost the fight almost at once.

Christ, she looked good. Height, breasts held firmly by the thin sports bra, hips balancing an hourglass outline, every contour lean and defined by muscle.

She embodied the kind of polished, high-powered appeal that refused to be ignored, and I saw no reason to pretend otherwise.

"Ah!" she continued, folding her upper body toward the raised leg and reaching overhead until her fingertips brushed her toes. "And this must be the Psychic. A pleasure."

"Likewise," Psyren answered with a soft, knowing smile that stayed sharp at the edges.

Tension snapped between the two of them so strongly that the air itself seemed to thicken, and because Psyren was psychic I could actually register the faint rosy shimmer that marked the pressure building in the space around us.

I forced a cough to cut through the silent standoff. "We were going to talk about your crew’s first super fight?" I said, keeping the focus deliberate.

Lacey’s attention swung back to me and the bright expression returned as if the contest had never occurred. "Mmm. We were," she agreed, lowering the leg and settling onto the desk edge. "And I’d love to tell you, Miles, but I’ve been a bit distracted lately."

"You?." I stretched it out. "How’s that even possible?"

A quiet laugh escaped her along with a small lift of one shoulder.

"See, I’ve been working on this stretch routine and I keep feeling like my form is off. You hit the gym enough that I figured you could correct me before we get into the real business."

I blinked at the sudden request. "I’m not exactly a trainer."

"But you know how a body is supposed to move. As I’m sure your new sidekick can attest to. Hm?" She flicked an amused glance toward Psyren.

"He does at that," Psyren said, turning the same smile on me. "Don’t you, boss? Go on and help her out."

I glanced between them, trying to track how the expected friction had flipped into a combined push against me. "I—"

"It would really help me focus so we can move the meeting along," Lacey sighed, tipping her head and shifting her weight in a way that made the sports bra ride and sent her breasts into a slow bounce.

"Oh boss, just look at her," Psyren added, pressing her palms together in mock plea and giving me the full soft-eyed look. "She needs a proper set of eyes on that form. Please?"

The whole exchange had veered into unexpected territory, yet turning down the chance to put my hands on someone built like Lacey was never realistic.

"Fine," I said, and crossed the remaining distance.

"I appreciate this, Miles. Reeeally," she murmured as she slid free of the desk, set both palms on the polished surface, and angled her hips back just enough to make the request unmistakable.

Better positions for checking alignment existed, but I already knew she would reject every one of them.

"No problem," I answered, the words coming out thicker than intended, and settled my hands on her shoulders and along her spine to begin adjusting the claimed imperfections.

Lacey released a low, drawn-out sound as my fingers pressed in.

She was overplaying the relief, yet my body paid no attention to the theatrics.

Hardness had already started simply from the contact, and that was before her hips rolled and her ass settled firmly against me.

"Oh there you go," she breathed, tipping her head so the warm cinnamon scent of her hair drifted up between us. "Mmm. That’s so gooood. Ah, Miles. I think... nnphmmm... you should’ve been a trainer."