My heart pounds against my ribs. “Ronan?—”
“Let’s get you home.” His voice is gentle again, all the steel reserved for Lucian is gone.
As he guides me to the car, I look around at the men in suits, still standing at alert. “Where did they come from?”
“They’re always around.” He opens the passenger door for me. “You just don’t see them.”
The drive back to the mansion passes in a blur. My mind spins with the events of the day—the million-dollar transfer, my mother’s warm acceptance of Ronan, and now Ronan standing between me and my worst nightmare.
Everything feels surreal, dreamlike. But as Ronan’s hand finds mine across the console, I realize one thing with perfect clarity: For the first time in years, I feel safe. I feel happy.
And I’m going home with Ronan.
9
RONAN
Marcus stands before my desk, hands clasped behind his back. The Christmas tree in the corner seems at odds with the conversation we’re having. I don’t even know why it’s there to begin with. Must have been my secretary’s doing.
“I want every loan record Lucian King has ever touched,” I tell him. “Every property he owns, every shell company, every bank account. I want his empire dismantled brick by brick.”
Marcus nods, unfazed. He’s been my right-hand man for years, handling the tasks that require absolute discretion. “We’ve already frozen his accounts. His men have been advised to seek other employment.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “I want him out of business permanently. No more preying on desperate people who have nowhere else to turn.” The memory of Lucian’s hand reaching toward Rayne’s face flashes in my mind, and my jaw tightens. “Make sure he understands the consequences of defiance.”
“Of course.” Marcus’s expression remains neutral, but I catch the glint of approval in his eyes. He’s seen firsthand what men like Lucian do. “The legal team is prepared to assist anyone who’s been victimized. We’ve identified seventeen cases so far of predatory lending with interest rates that would make a shark blush.”
“Good.” I stand, moving to the window. Snow falls gently outside, coating the grounds in pristine white. “I want all their debts cleared. Anonymous Christmas gift. Make it happen.”
“That’s ... generous.” For once, Marcus sounds surprised.
I turn to face him. “No one should live in fear of men like King, especially during the holidays.”
What I don’t say is how Rayne’s face has haunted me since last night—the momentary flash of terror when she saw Lucian, followed by the resignation. She’d been living with that fear for months, maybe years, believing she had to face it alone.
Never again.
After he leaves, I stand for a moment, watching the snow. My empire was built on cold calculation and relentless drive. I’ve never been sentimental, never allowed myself to be vulnerable.
But now there’s Rayne. And Ryan. And somehow, inexplicably, Elena has worked her way into that same protected space in my heart. I’ll use every ounce of my power, every dollar of my fortune, to keep them safe.
It’s not just about money anymore. It’s about becoming the man they deserve.
The hospital corridorfeels different today—less sterile, more hopeful. Elena sits on the edge of her bed, bundled in a thick coat despite the warmth inside. Her blonde hair, streaked with gray, is pulled into a neat bun, and she wears a touch of lipstick. Despite her frailty, I see Rayne in her eyes, in the determined set of her jaw.
“Mr. Ward.” Her smile brightens when she sees me. “I thought you’d send a car or one of your employees.”
“It’s Ronan,” I remind her, crossing to help gather her few belongings. “And I wanted to come myself.”
She studies me, head tilted slightly. “You’re not at all what I expected when Rayne told me about the auction.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “I imagine not.”
“I thought you’d be…” She pauses, searching for the right word.
“Older? Softer?” I offer, packing her medications into a small bag.
“Less intimidating,” she says, eyes twinkling. “You’re far too scary to play Santa Claus. That’s for sure.”
