“It's time for you to leave.” We look up. Caitlin's standing in the doorway. “You're no longer welcome here.”
My mother's eyes flash, but she nods. “Gladly. I can't stand to be here another moment.”
She turns to leave and pauses at the door. “Your father would be so disappointed in you, Bianca.”
The words are meant to cut, to make me feel small and guilty, as always. But this time, they don't work.
“My father would have been nothing but proud of me,” I say quietly. “He worked for the McCarthys, and so will I. Whatever it takes. I don't know what I have to offer them, but they are my family now. They are. And you're a woman who tried to sell her daughter for her own gain. I think I'll survive any disappointment fromyou.”
My mother's face twists with rage. But Declan is at her elbow—I don't even know when he came in—guiding her firmly toward the door. He’s big, like Ashland, strong and certain.
I hear the door close behind her and exhale. I feel something in my chest break open, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. I willnotcry. Not here. Not now. Not again.
“I've got you,” Ashland murmurs in my ear. “You did so good. Such a brave girl.” His hand is gentle on my back. “You're safe now, love.”
Erin stands and comes to sit beside me. “You did the right thing.” Her voice is detached and pragmatic, but she places her hand a little awkwardly on mine and pats me reassuringly.
“I hope so,” I say with a sigh. “I hope so.”
Caitlin walks toward the stove and puts the kettle on. “You're family now, love. We're a family. The kind that protects each other.”
I look up through welling tears at Erin, Ashland, and Caitlin. For the first time in my life, I think I might actually know what that means.
I'm still trying not to cry against Ashland's chest when Declan appears in the doorway, his face grim.
“Ash,” he says quietly.
“What’s the problem now?” Ashland's arms tighten around me protectively. “What is it?”
“Marcus Crowning's gone missing. Vanished as of this morning. Rumor has it he left his penthouse before dawn, didn't tell anyone where he was going. Some sources say he left the country.”
I can feel Ashland's entire body change—muscles coiling, his breathing slowing to that dangerous rhythm I've come to recognize.
“Missing,” he repeats, flat and cold, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Aye. Security footage shows him getting into a car alone after that. No credit card use, no phone pings, no sightings. He ran,” Declan says.
“He knows we're coming for him.”
“Maybe,” Declan says, his expression troubled. “Or maybe he's planning something. Going dark before he strikes.”
I swallow hard and pull back from Ashland's chest, wiping my eyes. “He doesn't lose. He's not a loser—he'sthe most competitive person I’ve known.” I clear my throat. “I don't really think he's left.”
Ashland's jaw is tight, his silver eyes almost black. “The bastard's sneaking and hiding.”
“Can we just wait him out?” I ask.
“Sneaking and hiding somewhere dangerous, where no one can see,” Ashland says quietly, his hand coming up to cup my face. “He's out there somewhere, planning his next move. Can't get to him if I don't know where the fuck he is.”
Declan shifts his weight. “I've got everyone watching—airports, train stations, borders. If he's still in the country, we'll find him.”
“And if he's not—” I start.
“We wait,” Ashland says, cutting me off. “We keep you safe, and we wait for him to surface.”
“We could bait him,” I suggest quietly.
“No.” Ashland grips me so tight it almost hurts. “You'renotbaiting him.”
