“When will I see you at home?” I asked gently.
She blew out a breath before saying, “Late. I’ll be here until seven—until my AA meeting.”
She didn’t give herself enough credit—she rarely did—but the fact she was still going to those meetings mattered more than she realized. It would’ve been easier to quit, to skip them when nobody was watching or checking in. But she was stubbornly showing up anyway, proving she was stronger than she allowed herself to believe.
“Good,” I whispered. “That’s good, Valentina.”
My phone vibrated again, insistent, almost frantic. Max wouldn’t call more than twice unless things were rapidly approaching disaster. I felt the familiar irritation building—at Sebastian, at Max, at the entire goddamn mess waiting for me—but I held it back.
“Go,” she insisted. “I’ll see you at home, lawyer.”
I lingered for another second, memorizing the look on her face: the small, stubborn tilt of her chin; the way she always faced down disaster like it owed her something.
The second I turned the corner, I pulled out my phone, already knowing exactly who’d be on the other end.
Max didn’t bother with a greeting. “We have a problem.”
“Of course we do,” I muttered dryly.
“Can you get to the office?”
“Give me twenty,” I said as I got into my car and slammed the door.
I hung up, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, already knowing exactly how this would go. Because “we have a problem” meant Max had a problem, which inevitably meant I had a much bigger one. Usually something Max had let fester—something he should’ve handled weeks ago but hadn’t, and now it was my mess to clean up.
Again.
I thought about Valentina still at the hospital, probably annoyed about the mess with the grant. She was finally letting me in, finally looking at me like I wasn’t the worst decision she’d ever made. Moments like that mattered more than I wanted to admit.
Which meant whatever problem Max had waiting for me at the office would almost certainly threaten exactly that.
Because clearly, life had it out for me. One quiet moment with Valentina. Just one damn moment of calm before everything inevitably went to hell again.
I glanced at the rearview mirror, adjusting it back into the right position after I’d shifted it earlier to keep an eye on Lucia. The hospital shrank behind me as I accelerated down the road.
Max hadn’t said what it was. He never did. He liked making me wait, keeping the details vague until I was there in front of him, forced to hear whatever bullshit crisis was unfolding. Usually something he or Remy could’ve easily handled themselves if they weren’t determined to make my life as complicated as possible.
By the time I got to the office, I was already late. Max shot me a look that told me exactly how he felt about my priorities lately. The conference room was packed—Max at the head of the table, Remy leaning back in his chair, Mikhail studying me silently. Even Sean was here, looking more bored than worried.
I dropped into my seat without a word.
Remy’s eyes locked on mine. “Glad you could join us,” he drawled, leaning back casually, not even bothering to hide his smirk.
“You gonna tell me what this is about?” I asked.
He slid a file across the table.
I flipped it open without waiting for Remy’s response. The second I saw Sebastian Callahan’s name across the top of the first page, irritation tightened my gut.
Fucking perfect.
Remy’s smirk faded slightly, but not enough to make me feel any better. “James Callahan landed in town yesterday. He’s putting pressure on the sheriff’s department. Word is, Sebastian could be out within twenty-four hours.”
I stared at him, my mind spinning. Weeks. Sebastian had been in custody for weeks, and I’d assumed the silence meant the situation was handled.
Stupid mistake. I should’ve known better.
“You’re telling me Sebastian Callahan’s still locked up?”
