
All Eyes on Her
by Ember NashThirty-two-year-old Reyna Torres didn't plan on becoming America's most talked-about whistleblower. Now she's got death threats in her inbox and a three-man security detail in her living room. Kane is ex-military discipline barely containing something darker. Dominic monitors her every device with an intensity that feels personal. And Jesse makes her laugh when terror should be the only thing she feels. They're supposed to protect her body. But the way they look at her isn't professional.

Chapter 1
The Detail
The safe house smells like fresh paint and paranoia.
I drop my bag on the kitchen counter—a single duffel containing everything I was allowed to bring from my apartment—and turn to face the three men standing in formation near the door. My new reality. My round-the-clock protection detail.
"Miss Torres, I'm Kane Mitchell," the tallest one says. He's built like a wall, broad shoulders straining against a black tactical shirt, jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Ex-military radiates off him like heat from asphalt. "I'll be heading your security team."
His eyes are gray. Cold. But I catch the way they track down my body before snapping back to my face. It takes him half a second too long.
"Reyna," I correct. "If you're going to be living in my space for the next three months, you can use my name."
Something shifts in his expression. A crack in the professional veneer. "Reyna."
The way he says it—low, deliberate—makes my stomach flip.
"Dominic Reyes." The second man steps forward. He's leaner than Kane, all precise angles and watchful dark eyes behind wire-framed glasses. He's carrying a laptop bag like it's a weapon. "Tech and surveillance. I'll be monitoring all your devices, communications, and perimeter systems."
"You'll be watching everything I do," I translate.
He doesn't smile, but there's a glint of something in his eyes. Appreciation, maybe. "Everything that keeps you alive, yes."
The third man doesn't wait to be introduced. He moves past the other two with the easy confidence of someone who's never met a room he couldn't charm.
"Jesse Vance." He extends his hand, and when I take it, he holds on a beat too long, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. He's younger than the other two—late twenties, maybe—with sun-streaked brown hair and a grin that's probably gotten him out of more trouble than it's gotten him into. "I'm the one who makes this bearable. Kane broods, Dom stalks, and I keep you from going crazy."
"I don't brood," Kane says flatly.
"You're literally brooding right now." Jesse winks at me. "See? This is why you need me."
I pull my hand back, hyper-aware of the heat lingering where he touched me. "I need all three of you because someone wants me dead. Let's not forget that part."
The temperature in the room drops.
Kane steps closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "No one gets to you. Not while we're here. That's not a promise—that's a fact."
I believe him. That's the terrifying part.
Three weeks ago, I was a compliance officer at Nexus Pharmaceuticals. I had a corner office, a 401k, and a carefully curated life that looked perfect from the outsi...
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About the Author

Ember Nash
A former sorority girl turned romance author who believes heroines shouldn't have to choose. After years of daydreaming about scenarios where the hot roommates, the band members, or the guys next door all wanted her—she started writing them down. Based in Austin with her rescue dog (named Harem, obviously), she writes the polyamorous fantasies readers are hungry for. "Why choose when you can have them all?"


