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Ronan didn’t slow. He tossed cash at the counter, a sneer tugging at his lips as he left.

By tonight, the cameras would be charged and ready. He’d nail them to the trees across from that house. Watch every move. Track every weakness.

His daughter thought she was safe?

He almost laughed out loud.

Let her play at being free. She wouldn’t see him coming until his hands were around her neck.

Chapter 24

“He’s here,” Mick announced, stepping into Paulo’s office without knocking. He knew this information couldn’t wait.

He shoved a tablet toward Paulo, who took it and tapped the screen. His jaw tightened as Ronan Keane’s face appeared, sitting in a blue minivan several houses down, pretending to talk on a phone. The bastard probably thought he was being clever. What Ronan didn’t know was that Paulo had insisted on facial recognition technology as part of their security system. It had paid off before, but never more than in this moment.

“Is Madelaine safe?” Paulo demanded.

Mick stiffened, affronted his boss had even needed to ask. “She was sitting outside, but I encouraged her to come in.” He hesitated with a grimace and dropped his voice. “But…don’t eat the banana bread she’s making.”

Paulo’s thoughts were already leaping ahead to the trap, to capturing Ronan. But at the warning, Madelaine in the kitchen, her curls wild, her lips pressed tight in concentration as she mixed ingredients, he froze. He couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching.

“Did someone hide the salt this time?” he asked.

Mick winced. “Rosa pulled the salt after the cookie debacle. But we couldn’t anticipate the baking soda versus baking powder fiasco.” He shuddered, then continued, “Or…the powdered sugar incident.” He scratched his jaw. “I don’t understand some of the mistakes, Boss.”

A quiet snort escaped Paulo before he could smother it. “Or the batch that welded itself to the pan,” he muttered. He could still remember the frustration on her face, the stubborn way she refused to let Rosa rescue the mess.

Behind Mick, two guards failed to contain their amusement, grinning down at their shoes.

“Yeah. That one too,” Mick conceded, straight faced but the laughter lurking in his eyes. “But she’s inside. That’s what matters.”

Paulo nodded, his expression hardening again as he pushed up from his chair. “And everything’s ready?”

“Yeah,” Mick confirmed. “We’ve even thinned the perimeter in the backyard to funnel him right where we want him.”

Paulo froze. The plan was sound. Too sound. Suddenly, he felt something sharp pierce his heart.

“No,” Paulo said flatly. “If we’re making it easy for him to gain access to the house, I need Madelaine out of here.”

Mick blinked. “But…sir? She’s the whole reason for…!”

“She’s not bait,” Paulo snapped, more harshly than he meant. He caught the startled flicker in Mick’s eyes, but didn’t soften his tone. “Not anymore.”

For a moment, the office was silent except for the steady hum of the monitors. Paulo’s hand clenched into a fist. He’d told himself for weeks that she was only a means to an end, a way to draw Ronan out. But that lie no longer held. Not after the way she smiled through her failures in the kitchen. Not after the way she touched him and made him feel like he wasn’t just a weapon, a mob boss, a man bound to violence.

She was his. And he would not sacrifice her for revenge.

“Get her ready to leave,” Paulo ordered, his voice like steel snapping. “Now.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he quickly thought through contingencies. Too many risks. Too many ways Ronan could get to her. “I don’t want her father anywhere near her.”

The memory of Madelaine’s blue eyes when she’d admitted her truth sliced through him—her hatred of Ronan, her guilt for not being able to love him, the scars left by his cruelty. The hurt she’d revealed as she told him how her father had mercilessly shipped her off like baggage to various boarding schools. Ignored. Overlooked.

And Paulo had been no better at first. He’d seen her as leverage, not the brilliant, strong, stubborn woman she was. But now? He knew her worth. He’d never let her doubt it again. He’d protect her. Cherish her.

Every.

Damn.

Day.