He nodded eagerly, running to his room to select a book. I followed more slowly, my body aching from the night before, my mind still trapped in a loop of what-ifs.
Leo chose his favorite—a worn copy of "Goodnight Moon" that we'd read hundreds of times. I settled into the rocking chair in the corner of his room, and he climbed into my lap, his damp head resting against my chest.
"Goodnight room, goodnight moon," I began, the familiar words flowing automatically.
As I rocked and read, Leo's eyelids grew heavy. By the time I reached the end, he was nearly asleep, his breathing deep and even.
"You look so much like him," I whispered, tracing the curve of his cheek with my finger. "Same jaw. Same eyes."
Leo didn't stir, lost in the peaceful sleep of childhood.
"What happens if he sees you?" The question hung in the air, unanswered.
I continued rocking, holding my son close, trying to imagine what Cassian would do if—when—he discovered the truth. Would he be angry? Would he want to be part of Leo's life? Or would he see Leo as an inconvenience, a complication to be managed with money and distance?
The Cassian I'd glimpsed in Miami—the man who'd held me like I mattered, who'd whispered things that made me believe he felt what I felt—that man might have welcomed a son.
But the Cassian Barone I'd come to know these past weeks? The ruthless CEO who commanded rooms with a glance, who destroyed competitors without remorse, who kept everyone at arm's length?
I couldn't risk Leo's heart on a man like that.
And yet, I'd risked my own. Again.
I carefully transferred Leo to his bed, tucking the dinosaur beside him. He stirred slightly but didn't wake.
"I'll protect you," I promised, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "No matter what."
Back in my own room, I pulled out my phone and stared at Cassian's business card. The embossed letters caught the light, his private number written on the back in precise handwriting.
I should tear it up. Delete his contact information. Request a transfer to another department—or better yet, find a new job entirely.
Instead, I saved the number and set the card on my nightstand.
Because deep down, beneath the fear and the regret and the self-recrimination, I knew the truth: I wasn't strong enough to walk away from Cassian Barone a second time.
Not even to protect my son.
Not even to protect myself.
CHAPTER 9
Cassian
Istared at the contract on my desk without seeing it. My mind kept drifting back to Isla—the way she'd felt beneath me. The sounds she'd made. The inexplicable familiarity that still taunted me.
Marco knocked, interrupting my thoughts.
"Background check on Quinn is complete." He placed a thin folder on my desk. "Nothing suspicious. Almost too clean."
I scanned the pages. Education records. Employment history. All thoroughly average.
"Dig deeper." I closed the folder. "Previous addresses, known associates, everything."
Marco nodded. "There's something else. Calabrese has been asking questions about her."
I felt a surge of possessiveness. "Make it clear she's off-limits."
"Already done." Marco hesitated. "There's also chatter about the Rossi territory. Might be trouble brewing."
