"Nothing you need to worry about."
"That's not an answer."
I stand and move toward her."Angel, there are things about my life, about the club, that I can't always share.Not because I don't trust you, but because?—"
"Because the less I know, the safer I am?"
"Something like that."
She studies my face, and I can see her weighing whether to push or let it go.Finally, she nods.
"Okay.But if something's happening, something that affects me or the kids, I need to know."
"I promise."
The lie tastes like ash in my mouth, but I tell it anyway.Because the truth—that I'm about to orchestrate her ex-fiancé's murder—isn't something she's ready to hear.
"The gate," I say, changing the subject."It wasn't installed correctly.That's how Ethan got in yesterday without triggering alarms."
"Can we fix it?"
"Already on it.I've got a crew coming this afternoon to make sure it's properly secured.No one's getting in here without us knowing about it."
"Thank you."
She steps closer, and despite everything weighing on me, I can't resist pulling her into my arms.She fits perfectly, like she was made to be there.
"I won't let him hurt you again," I murmur against her hair."Whatever it takes."
"I know."
But she doesn't know.She has no idea what I'm willing to do, what lines I'm willing to cross, to keep her safe.
The rest of the morning passes in relative peace.The crew arrives to fix the gate, and I spend an hour making sure it's done right this time.Proper wiring, correct security codes, backup systems in case of power failure.
By the time they leave, my property is as secure as it's going to get.
I'm in the kitchen making lunch when I hear Evangeline's footsteps stop in the hallway.When I look up, she's standing frozen, her face pale, staring at her phone.
"What's wrong?"
She doesn't answer, just hands me her phone.On the screen is a text from an unknown number.No words, just a photo.
A surveillance photo of my house, taken from across the street.In the picture, Evangeline is visible through the window, holding Lily, both of them laughing at something.
The timestamp is from this morning.
Someone's been watching us.
"When did you get this?"I ask, my voice deadly calm.
"Just now.Who would?—"
"Morrison."
"Are you sure?"
"Who else would be watching the house, taking pictures of you and the kids?"
