A crushing weight settled on his sternum.
He thought of Chloe, of her fierce loyalty, her endless benefit of the doubt, and the way she kept trying to believe the best of people even when the evidence stacked up ugly.She would blame herself if anything touched her family.The thought of her finding out something had happened to her sister because he’d hesitated made something cold and violent settle into his gut.
He straightened abruptly and called Tyler.
“I need you to start a quiet trace on Danica Giordano.Phone, credit cards, rideshares.Anything.”
“On it.”
Anja glanced at him, and he gave her a subtle nod, indicating he wanted to talk to her.
She excused herself and came over.
“Don’t spook Chloe, but I can’t get in touch with Danica.”
A pause.Then, carefully, “You’re bringing her in too.”
“Yes.”
No judgment, just acceptance.“Good.”
Kayne looked at the kitchen, toward where Chloe was trying to recover from a day that should’ve broken her.She trusted him to see the threats she couldn’t.He was doing this for her, even if it turned out to be a mistake.
Especially if it did.
Because after tonight, one thing was painfully clear: whoever was hunting Chloe wasn’t done.Kayne would rather bring one more unpredictable variable under his roof than leave her family exposed in the dark.
He picked up his phone again and dialed Danica one more time.Straight to voicemail.
His jaw locked.“Answer the phone,” he murmured.“Please.”
The word tasted unfamiliar and dangerous.
#
Chloe hadn’t thoughtabout Danica.Not even once.
The realization hit her like a delayed bruise.It was deep, aching, and impossible to ignore once it surfaced.She sat on the edge of the bed at the safe house, hands twisted in the hem of her shirt, replaying the day in ruthless fragments: Leo on the pavement, the gunshot, the ambulance, Kayne’s bloodied hands.And nowhere in any of it had Danica crossed her mind.
The absence screamed now that she noticed it, and a sharp pang of guilt lanced through her.
“She’s my sister,” Chloe whispered, more to herself than anyone else.“How did I not think of her?”
Kayne was already shaking his head.He stood a few feet away, phone in hand.His posture was alert but gentle where she was concerned.
“You were worried about Leo,” he said quietly.“About surviving the last hour.That’s not a failure,cher.”
She looked up at him, eyes burning.“You thought of her.”
“Yes,” he said simply.“That’s my job.”
That nearly undid her.
Not because it was his job, but because he treated her family as if they were already his responsibility.He always acted, never hesitated.
“But I can’t reach her,” he added, and the softness left his voice.“That part worries me.”
Her stomach dropped.“What do you mean, can’t reach her?”
