Imanaged two trips back to the States before Ingrid’s winter break. Both quick. Just one night. We kept it tame—kissing, touching, holding on to each other. Same bed. No sex. I knew once we crossed that line there was no going back. When I finally sink into her, it won’t be quick. It’ll be days before I let her up for air.
She flew home to Hermosa Islas five days ago. I stayed away. Her request. Said it was better that way. Too much family drama and me showing up, throwing our relationship in their faces, would’ve been asking for trouble. Out of respect for her, I agreed.
I tried staying away, but after three days, I broke. My biggest client, the Reyes, gave me a great excuse to fly in. There were things we needed to discuss, and this felt like the best time to do it. In a few days, they go on holiday, so now was my shot to catch up.
Logical move—swing by the Lennox place while I’m here. A promise is a promise, and I promised Gerald I’d keep an eyeon him. He’s under house arrest, so why not see what shit he’s pulling?
Something’s off. My gut burns with suspicion about why her family called her home. Gerald’s broke. Assets frozen. And he’s clever. I’d bet good money he knows about her separate account. Money he’s desperate to get his grimy hands on.
Men like him can’t be trusted. And I’ll be damned if I just stand by and wait for him to make his move.
Now that the Lennoxs are outcasts, no one cares. My presence here will go unnoticed. Keeping my friends’ secret safe. I don’t need anyone reporting back to the Batistas I was here. Not that it’s anyone’s business. I could be here for a number of reasons.
Knowing that Gerald’s neighbors and high-society friends immediately distanced themselves when his crimes were exposed, I roll up his driveway freely. No one wants that stink on them.
Climbing out of my car, I take in the massive home and pristine grounds. As I ascend the wide porch stairs, raised voices drift through the door. Not quite yelling, but sharp, clipped—stern enough to make me pause and listen.
“Do you want your father to suffer more than he already has?” A male voice I can’t place asks. “Doesn’t matter to me how I get paid. Killing him would only bring me satisfaction, not clear his debt. That shifts to the family. Your mother’s next. Then you.”
Silence. Then the sickening thud of a fist slamming into flesh. A grunt.
A pleading female voice comes next, one I’d kill to protect. It’s broken, ragged. “Please stop. I don’t have that kind of money. If I did, I’d hand it over to you, but I don’t.”
A cynical laugh, sharp and brittle, slices through the silence. “You’re a pretty girl, Ingrid. My club’s always hiring, looking forfreshtalent. A couple of years, maybe less, and the debt’s gone. Or we could…”
Not a chance. Not while I’m breathing. I’m not standing here while some bastard threatens my woman. Without knocking, I grab the handle and shove the door open. The element of surprise is on my side. My gun in hand, ready to take aim, and fire first and sort the pieces later.
It’s a good thing I don’t take chances. I’ve had my people posing as staff for the last several months. It’s how I’ve kept an eye on Gerald. How I always keep an eye on my targets. The best way to catch a criminal is from the inside.
The second I storm through the door, I’m not alone. Three members of my team enter from opposite corners, all aiming their own weapons at key targets.
“What the fuck?” Rueben Del Markov shouts as he reaches for his weapon.
“Unless you want a bullet in your skull, I’d think twice about that,” I warn him.
Lifting his hands, he grins like the evil sonofabitch he is. “Well, isn’t this rich? The Duke of Falcon hanging out with criminals. Dipping into the pot too? Once a thief, always a thief. Isn’t that what they say?”
I don’t respond. He’s outnumbered, and I’m here for one person and one person only. Lowering my gun and placing it back in my holster, I spot her. She’s been crying, her face blotchy, and there’s a visible mark across her cheek.
Red blinds me, and in an instant, my hands are on Rueben’s neck. “Did you hit her?”
His eyes meet Ingrid, and he has the nerve to shrug. “She was asking for it. Little bitch tried to cut me.”
A sharp crack slits the air as my fist slams into his ribs, his gasp proof I hit the mark. “You hit her. I hit you. Did he strike you more than once?”
Ingrid’s hand grazes her cheek. Her sleeve slips, and I see it—fingerprint bruises line her forearm. That’s all I need. He marked her. Got a little rough, nothing else. My team would’ve stopped him. Intervened before then. Doesn’t matter. Rage coils inside me.
No one touches what’s mine.
A few more blows for good measure, and I toss him to the ground.
I pass her father and tell him what I’ve wanted to say since our first meeting. “You’re lower than that scum who came to collect his pound of flesh. Using your own daughter to cover your arse—that’s the lowest it gets. I’ll let the authorities know who you play with. I’m pretty damn sure they’ll want to hear this. Might even revoke your house arrest and put you behind bars.”
Her mother tries to defend her dead-beat husband. “You have no idea?—”
Arms crossed, I stare her down. “You’re no better. And trust me, I know exactly what it’s like to have your family sell you out. I hope you can prove your innocence, otherwise, you’ll have a cell next to his.”
She lunges to slap me, but Ingrid intervenes, seizing her wrist midair. “Enough! Enough of this stupid game. I’m done! I spent years doing what you asked, thinking one day you’d actually give a damn. But I was just a pawn. Disposable. Used when it suited you. Well, screw that. You can both rot in hell. I’m finished.”
