But God, I wanted to go down there, to walk out those doors and make it very clear what would happen if they came anywhere near her. Wished to use my body for what it had beentrained to do, and protect what was mine through whatever means necessary.
She was mine to protect now. Ours. The moment she'd accepted our help, the moment she'd let herself be vulnerable in our space, she'd become pack, whether or not she fully understood that yet.
I pulled up the facial recognition software we'd installed last year, and fed it the still images. It would search through databases, pulling up names if these people had any kind of public presence. Social media accounts, employment records, anything that might give us leverage or information about what they were planning.
Because they were planning something. People didn't conduct surveillance this carefully, this methodically, unless they were building toward action. The question was what kind of action, and how much time we had before they moved.
My fingers found the phone in my pocket before I'd consciously decided to call Kade. He needed to know. Now. We needed to lock down security, increase our coverage, and make sure Jasmine didn't leave the penthouse until we understood exactly what we were dealing with.
I stared at the monitors, at those four faces positioned around our building, and felt my protective instincts coil tight in my chest. They'd made a mistake coming here. Made a mistake thinking they could just take her back, or hurt her, or whatever the hell they were planning.
They didn't know what they were dealing with. Didn't understand that she wasn't alone anymore, wasn't unprotected. She had us now. Had me. And I would burn down the entire city before I let them touch her again.
The phone was already at my ear, Kade's number dialing, when I noticed the fifth person. Another camera, another angle,this one covering the rear loading dock that only service vehicles were supposed to access.
Male, thirties, with a build that suggested he knew how to use his fists. He wasn't even pretending to have a reason to be there. Just standing in the shadows where the loading dock lights didn't quite reach, staring up at the building's upper floors.
Staring up toward where the penthouse would be. I zoomed in, double-checked, and then triple-checked. But it was definitely him. He was here right outside our building last night when she was telling us about all the horrible things he did to her.
Bane.
Kade appeared in the doorway less than three minutes after I'd called. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his hair looked like he'd been running his hands through it, but his expression was composed in a way that meant he'd locked down every emotion behind professional walls. That composure lasted exactly as long as it took him to cross the threshold and see my face.
“Show me,” he said, his voice level but carrying an edge that I recognized. Kade's anger was a dangerous thing, made more dangerous by how completely he could control it until the moment he chose not to.
“We have a problem,” I said, and my voice came out harder than I'd intended, rough with the violence I was holding back. “They're here. Her old pack. They're watching the building.”
I shifted in my chair, giving him space to lean over the bank of monitors. His oak scent intensified as he moved closer, mixing with my leather in the small room. Pack. The smell of us together had always been grounding, but right now it just made the protective fury in my chest burn hotter.
“I started noticing them about two hours ago,” I said, pulling up the first image. The two men on the northwest corner. “But they've been here longer. This one,” —I pointed to the man with sharp cheekbones— “has been rotating through positions since around three this afternoon.”
Kade leaned in, his hands gripping the back of my chair. I felt rather than saw his body go rigid.
“I recognize him,” Kade said, his voice dropping lower. “He was in the background in those photos. Close to Bane.”
“Bane's inner circle,” I confirmed, pulling up the next image. The older man by the main entrance. “He's been here since noon. Stays in position for about an hour, then rotates. Always maintaining a line of sight to the lobby doors.”
I cycled through the other images, showing him each face, each position, the pattern of their movements. Kade's breathing changed as he watched, becoming more controlled, more measured. His fingers dug into the leather of my chair until I heard the material creak.
“Then there’s this.” I showed him the video of the man in his thirties by the loading bay.
Kade growled. “Is that who I think it is?”
I nodded. “Bane.”
“I’ve seen five that I've identified,” I said, bringing up the split screen that showed all of them simultaneously. “There could be more I haven't spotted yet. They're not trying particularly hard to hide. It's almost like—”
“They want us to know they're there,” Kade finished, his voice hard. “Intimidation. Psychological pressure.”
Kade's hand left the chair and pressed flat against the desk beside the monitor, fingers spread wide like he was trying to ground himself. The tendons in his forearm stood out sharply beneath his skin, and I watched his jaw work as he processed what he was seeing.
“They know she's here,” he said, and it wasn't a question.
“Yeah.” I leaned back, giving him more space, watching his profile in the blue glow of the monitors. “Question is, how'd they find her? We've been careful. She hasn't left the building except for that one walk, and the newspaper—” I stopped, the realization hitting. “Fuck. The newspaper photo.”
Kade's eyes closed briefly, and I saw his shoulders tense even more. When he opened them again, his eyes had gone cold in a way that made me grateful I wasn't on the receiving end of whatever he was planning.
“They're planning something,” I said, stating what we both knew. “People don't conduct surveillance like this unless they're building toward action. We need to figure out what and when.”
