Speaker 1: Calarogu Shark Media.
Speaker 2: Hello and welcome to Romance Weekly. This episode is titled
Frost and Fire, Episode two, Heat in the Storm.
Speaker 3: The storm hits just after midnight, transforming Aspen's elegant slopes
into a.
Speaker 4: Howling void of white.
Speaker 3: Perfect weather for thieves, perfect cover for sins. I'm in
the vault again, documenting every detail of the winter's theft.
When the first power surge hits, the backup generators kick
in with a hum, casting emergency lighting across the titanium
walls across Gabriel's face as he moves closer. Found something.
His voice is professional, his eyes aren't. Maybe I hold
up the crystal snowflake under my loop. The cut is distinctive.
Only one person does work this precise, Alexey Winters. Gabriel's
hand brushes mine as he takes the loop. Your old partner,
I freeze. What makes you think I know everything about
your past? Li Chia, His eyes meet mine in the
dim light. Every job, every alias, every partner, not everything.
I counter thinking of Monaco, of how thoroughly I'd fooled
him that night.
Speaker 4: His smile is sharp.
Speaker 3: No tell me, then, was seducing me part of your
plan or just a happy accident. Before I can answer,
the lights go out completely in the pitch black of
the vault. Other senses heighten, the whisper of his breath,
the heat of his body inches from mine, the lingering
trace of his cologne, cedar, and danger. Don't move, He murmurs.
Security protocol locks the vault during power failures. I know
I designed the system myself. We're sealed in until power restores.
His hand finds my waist in the dark, steadying me,
or maybe steadying himself. How long twenty minutes may be
more with the storm, twenty minutes alone in the dark.
His thumb traces circles on my hip with a known
jewel thief. Should I be worried? I lean closer, letting
my lips brush his ear. Terrified, His grip tightens, like
you were in Monaco when you ran. I had my reasons.
Speaker 4: Tell me.
Speaker 3: His other hand slides into my hair, tipping my face
up to where his must be in the darkness.
Speaker 4: Tell me why you left before dawn?
Speaker 3: The truth burns in my throat because you made me
feel too much, because I wanted to stay, Because for
the first time since Paris, since leaving the winters since
going straight. I wanted something real. Instead, I kiss him.
The kiss is electric, charged with months of questions, years
of chase and escape. His hands find me unerringly in
the dark, like he's memorized my shape, like he's been
mapping this moment since Monaco. You ran. He breathes against
my mouth. You left me chasing shadows. Maybe that's what
I am. My fingers trace his jaw, feeling the tension there,
a shadow, a lie. His kiss silences me, backing me
against the vault wall. Cold titanium meets my spine as
his body presses hot against my front. The contrast makes
me gasp, feel like a lie. His teeth graze my throat,
taste like a shadow. My head falls back, giving him
better access. Gabriel say it again. His hands slide lower,
hitching my thigh up. My real name this time, not Adam,
not the stranger from Monaco, Gabriel. It comes out like
a prayer, like a confession. The emergency lights flicker, casting
his face in ghostly blue, just enough to see the
hunger in his eyes before he claims my mouth again.
His touch is possessive, demanding, FBI agent, not playboy Mark,
This is the man who hunted me across Europe, who
almost caught me in Paris, Who's caught me? Now my
phone buzzes in my pocket once twice, the pattern I
programmed for emergency alerts.
Speaker 4: Ignore it.
Speaker 3: Gabriel growls, his hand sliding under my blouse. Three buzzes,
Priority override.
Speaker 4: I can't. I pull back, breathless.
Speaker 3: That's the secure system. He lets me check the message,
but doesn't move away. His heat still burns against me
as I read Vault three compromised second, theft in progress,
Watch the snow.
Speaker 4: What is it?
Speaker 3: His fingers trace my collar bone, making it hard to think.
I show him the phone. Someone's using the blackout, using
my own security protocols against me. The winters has to be.
I straighten my clothes, trying to ignore how his touch
still tingles on my skin. They knew about the back
up generator timing, knew when we'd be locked in here distracted.
His laugh is dark, very distracted. The main lights surge
back on, temporary but bright. We both blink in the
sudden glare. His shirt is rumpled where I grabbed it.
My lipstick marks his collar.
Speaker 4: We should I gesture vaguely at the vault door. We should.
Speaker 3: He doesn't move, but first tell me one truth, Lucia,
one real thing. I meet his eyes. Consider lying, consider running,
Consider all the ways this could destroy everything I've built.
Monaco wasn't an accident, I whisper, I chose you that night,
that room, that I swallow.
Speaker 4: All of it.
Speaker 3: The vault door clicks open. Before he can respond. Izzie's
voice carries down the corridor, Luke, we've got trouble. Gabriel's
hand catches mine as I move to leave. This isn't over. No,
The heat in his eyes promises much more to come,
Like the storm still raging outside, like the danger closing in.
Speaker 1: I know.
Speaker 3: I slip away, straightening my blouse. Nothing ever is with us.
Vault three holds, summit ridges, most prized guest deposits. The
locks system was designed for one at a time, access,
controlled combinations, and a backup mechanical override, a system I'd
created to be unbeatable. Yet here we stand, staring at
empty drawers where the grace and diamonds should be ten
million in rocks, vanished in twenty minutes of darkness. Show
me the override log, I tell Izzie, already knowing what
I'll find. She hands me her tablet. The mechanical override
engaged at exactly twelve seventeen a m. When Gabriel and
I were distracted. The timing's too perfect, Gabriel says, behind me,
close enough that I can feel his heat, feel the
ghost of his hands from moments ago. Of course it
is I zoom in on the access code used because
they had inside help. The code belongs to Marcus Kane,
head of maintenance, the same Marcus who helped install the
backup generators, who knows every security protocol, who works for
the Winters. Gabriel finishes my thought. We've suspected he was
their tech guy for months. Then why didn't you I
stop as realization hits. You knew you let this happen.
To draw them out, His hand touches my lower back,
hidden from Lizzie's view, not just them. I turn to
face him, fury and desire, warring in my blood. You
use me as bait. No, his eyes are intense, honest,
I needed your help. That part was real, is real,
like Monico was real. Pain flashes across his face. Monico
was a gunshot cracks through the storm's howl close inside
the resort security breach in the east wing is The's
radio crackles armed suspects. Gabriel's hand goes to his concealed weapon.
Stay here like hell, I'm already moving. This is my resort, Luccia.
He catches my arm. They're not just here for the jewels.
Speaker 1: I know.
Speaker 4: I meet his eyes. They're here for me.
Speaker 3: The lights flicker again as another shot echoes outside. The
storm rage is harder, trapping us all inside, with killers,
thieves and too many dangerous truths. Well, then, Gabriel smile
as sharp as he draws his gun. Let's give them
what they came for. Together, we run toward the sound
of shots, toward my past, toward whatever lies between us,
trust or betrayal, passion or destruction.
Speaker 4: The Storm's got nothing on.
Speaker 3: The chaos about to break loose inside Summit Ridge, and
I'm done running from any of it.
Speaker 2: Romance Weekly is a production of Calaroga Shark Media executive
producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. Portions of this podcast
may have been created with the assistance of Ai
Speaker 1: Calaroga Shark Media