“And stop them before they get the chance.” Kade's voice had gone soft again, that dangerous silence that preceded calculated violence. He straightened, his hands finally leaving the desk, and I saw them curl into fists at his sides. “Have you pulled background on all of them?”
“Facial recognition software is running now. Should have names and whatever public information exists within the hour.” I gestured to the secondary monitor, where the program was still processing. “I've also compiled timestamps and movement patterns. If they stick to their rotation, we'll be able to predict where they'll be.”
Kade nodded, his gaze still fixed on the monitors. His breathing had evened out, the initial shock and rage settling into something colder and more purposeful. This was Kade inplanning mode, the same focus he brought to running the record company now directed toward protecting what was his.
What was ours.
“She doesn't know yet,” I breathed.
“No.” Kade's hands flexed, released, flexed again. “And she doesn't need to. Not until we have a plan in place. She's already been through enough today with the recording and—” He stopped himself, but I knew what he meant. The breakdown yesterday, the nightmare last night, the emotional exhaustion that had been written all over her face even as she'd sung beautifully.
“Agreed,” I said. “We handle this quietly. Make sure she's safe without making her feel trapped.”
“She'll feel trapped anyway when we tell her she can't leave.” Kade turned away from the monitors finally, looking at me directly. “But better trapped and alive than whatever they're planning.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. I'd seen what Jasmine's old pack had done to her. Seen the physical evidence in her skittishness, the way she flinched from sudden movements. Heard her sob about losing a child because they'd beaten her.
If these people thought they were taking her back, they'd have to go through me first. Through us. And I would make sure that was the last mistake they ever made.
“We need Lucian,” Kade said, already moving toward the door. “Full lockdown protocols. I want to know everyone who enters this building, every delivery, every service call. Background checks on anyone who so much as looks at our front door.”
“I’ve already started the protocols,” I said, standing and following him. My bulk filled the narrow doorway as we moved into the hallway. “Lucian was in the kitchen. I'll call him.”
Kade paused, his hand on the hallway wall, and I saw the moment where his control wavered. Just for a second, his shoulders sagged slightly, and his jaw unclenched enough that I glimpsed the fear underneath the fury. Fear for Jasmine. Fear of what might happen if we failed to protect her.
Then the moment passed, and he straightened, his expression hardening back into determined focus.
“My office,” he said. “Ten minutes. We plan this properly.”
I nodded, understanding everything he wasn't saying. This wasn't just about tactical response. This was about making sure the woman sleeping upstairs, the Omega who'd finally begun to trust us, stayed safe. Whatever it took. Whatever we had to do.
Kade met my eyes, and I saw my fury reflected back at me. The promise of violence if anyone tried to take her. The absolute certainty that we would give our lives to protect her.
He gave a single nod, sharp and decisive, then turned toward his office.
I pulled out my phone to call Lucian, but my gaze drifted back toward the security room, toward those monitors still glowing with images of our enemies positioning themselves around our home.
They'd made a mistake coming here. They just didn't know it yet.
Chapter Twenty-four
Kade
My office felt too small as I paced behind my desk, hands fisted. The city sprawled beyond my windows, lights dancing like fireflies in the night. Somewhere down there, five members of Jasmine's old pack were positioning themselves around my building, around my home, around the woman I'd promised to protect. The fury that burned in my chest wanted immediate action, wanted me to go down there and handle this with fists and threats. But I'd learned years ago that rage without strategy was just idiotic.
I needed to be smart about this. Calculated. Precise.
The knock at my door came exactly ten minutes after I'd left Theo. I called for him to enter, and he filled the doorway with his broad frame, his expression grim.
“Lucian's on his way up,” he said, moving to stand near the windows. “I've already sent orders down to security. Double shifts start tonight, with additional personnel on the overnight rotation.”
“Good.” I stopped pacing, forced myself to lean against my desk with a casualness I didn't feel. My hands gripped the edge of the wood, knuckles whitening. “I want background checks onevery service worker, every delivery person, everyone who has building access. If they're not on the permanent approved list, they don't get in.”
“Already in motion.” Theo crossed his arms, his dark eyes tracking my movements. “I've also contacted the security company we use for events. They can have additional personnel here within two hours if we need them.”
“Do it.” The words came out sharper than I'd intended, but Theo just nodded, understanding the fury underneath. “I want eyes on every entrance, every floor. If someone so much as breathes wrong near this building, I want to know about it.”
Another knock, and Lucian slipped through the door. His face was drawn, worry furrowing his brow. He moved to the chair near my desk but didn't sit; instead, he braced his hands on the back of it.
