“She will,” he said, with such conviction that I almost believed him.
“There’s more. I’ve never told anyone this before,” I whispered, staring into my coffee. The liquid rippled with my trembling hands. “Two months after we moved here, I had Helen watch Nora for me while I went to Cyprus myself.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he remained silent, waiting.
“I planted explosives on Mikhail’s yacht.” The words hung between us, heavy as stones. “I knew his schedule. I knew when he’d be on board. I set the timer for a week out and walked away. I never grew up in the life of a mob family, but it’s in my blood, I guess.”
I forced myself to meet Jake’s eyes. His face remained carefully neutral, but I saw the subtle tightening of his jaw.
“So what was Tomas MacGallan? The leader of the Irish mob?”
I nod. “He was. Now it’s more of a family thing with Declan being the one mostly in control.”
He chuckled. “How does that not surprise me?”
“He certainly fits the bill. But anyway, the explosion made international news. ‘Russian billionaire’s son killed in yacht blast.’ They called it a gas leak, but I knew better.” I set my mug down before I could drop it. “But here’s the thing—I’ve never been certain it was actually him who died that day.”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked, his voice low.
“Mikhail always traveled with a personal servant. An older man named Vassily, who had looked after him since childhood. They were similar in build, similar in height.” My throat constricted around the words. “The body they recovered was... unrecognizable. Dental records confirmed it was Mikhail, but dental records can be falsified when you have enough money and power.”
Jake leaned forward. “You think he survived?”
“I think it’s possible. And if I’m right—if that was him at the tree lighting—then he’s been tracking me all this time, waiting for the perfect moment.” Iwrapped my arms around myself. “He would want revenge. Not just for running, but for trying to kill him.”
“Did Tomas know? About what you did?”
I shook my head. “No one knows. I’ve carried this alone for eight years.”
The kitchen fell silent except for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Dawn was beginning to break, pale light seeping through the windows.
“I don’t regret it,” I said finally. “I’d do anything to protect my daughter. But now she’s in danger again.”
Jake reached across the table and took my hand. His palm was rough, calloused from years of ranch work, but his touch was surprisingly gentle.
“You’re not alone in this anymore,” he said.
I wanted to believe him. But I’d been fighting this battle for so long, I wasn’t sure I remembered how to let someone else shoulder part of the weight.
The floorboards creaked behind us. We both turned to see Nora standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.
“Mom? Why are you up?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.
I quickly wiped my eyes and forced a smile. “Just couldn’t sleep, sweetie. Want some hot chocolate?”
She nodded, then spotted Jake. A tiny frown creased her forehead. “You’re still here.”
“Just keeping an eye on things,” he said easily.
Nora padded over to the table and climbed into my lap, still half-asleep. I wrapped my arms around her small body, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her hair.
Over her head, Jake mouthed, “We’ll figure this out.”
I nodded, hoping he was right. Because if Mikhail was alive—if he’d found us—I wasn’t sure I had any more tricks left to keep us safe.
∞∞∞
The morning unfolded with forced normalcy. I made breakfast while Jake checked the perimeter of the house one more time before leaving. He promised to return that evening with the security equipment he’d mentioned.
