Keiran
O NE WEEK AGO
The little cottage wasn't so little. Four bedrooms, wraparound porch, private beach access. The kind of "modest" hideaway that cost seven figures in Martha's Vineyard.
Marvin had chosen well—an island sanctuary where the wealthy went to escape. Far enough from Harbour Locke to avoid the press, exclusive enough to keep out unwanted visitors.
But not far enough to keep out .
He didn't bother knocking. The security system disarmed under his touch—money well spent on the information his men had gathered. Inside, the cottage was all bleached wood and nautical blues, trying too hard to seem casual when every fixture screamed luxury.
Voices drifted from the back deck. followed them.
"The lawyers think they can delay for another month," Marvin was saying, a glass of red wine dangling from his fingers. "By then, the media will have moved on to someone else's scandal."
"And Cadence?" Gail asked, her voice slightly tremulous. "Have you spoken to her?"
"Not since last week. She'll be fine—that restaurant of hers is doing well enough. Always was a stubborn girl."
stepped through the French doors. "A quality she didn't inherit from either of you."
The speed with which Marvin's face drained of color was almost comical. The wine glass slipped from his fingers, shattering on the deck.
"How did you—"
"Get past your security?" smiled without warmth. "The same way I got past the federal agents watching your accounts. The same way I got the proof of your embezzlement. The same way I found out who you really owe money to."
Gail's hand fluttered to her throat. "We don't know what you're talking about."
"Four million to the Costello family," said flatly. "An organization not known for its patience or forgiveness."
Marvin rose shakily to his feet. "What do you want?"
"To deliver a message." moved closer, enjoying the way Marvin flinched. "Stay away from Cadence."
"She's our daughter—"
"She's collateral damage in your pathetic attempt to save yourselves." 's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "And I won't let you use her again."
"We've never used her," Gail protested weakly.
turned his cold gaze on her. "You made her believe she owed you for adopting her. Made her feel like she had to earn your love. And when she finally found happiness, you destroyed it with lies."
"Now, see here," Marvin blustered, some of his courage returning. "Whatever Cadence told you—"
"She told me nothing," cut in. "She still believes your lies. Still thinks I'm the one who betrayed her."
Understanding dawned in Marvin's eyes. "You know."
"I know you told her I was cheating when it was you in that hotel with your secretary. I know you manipulated her fears, her insecurities—everything you'd spent years carefully cultivating."
"It was for her own good," Marvin insisted. "You were nobody. A carpenter with no background, no family—"
moved so quickly neither of them saw it coming. One moment he was standing three feet away, the next, his hand was around Marvin's throat, lifting him inches off the ground.
"I was her husband," he said, each word precise and deadly. "And you took that from both of us."
Gail's scream was distant, irrelevant. 's focus narrowed to Marvin's bulging eyes, his desperate gasps.
"I could kill you right now. Make it look like an accident. A heart attack brought on by stress. No one would question it." He tightened his grip slightly. "No one would miss you."
"Please," Gail sobbed. "Please don't."
held Marvin a moment longer, watching him struggle, before releasing him. The older man collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.
"Here's what's going to happen," said calmly, as if he hadn't just nearly choked a man to death. "You're going to disappear. No calls to Cadence. No attempts to contact her. As far as she's concerned, you've abandoned her—just like you really did when she was six."
Marvin's head jerked up, shock written on his face. "How did you—"
"I know everything about her. About you. About Elena Biancardi." smiled at their expressions. "Yes, that too."
"You can't tell her," Gail whispered. "We promised—"
"I know who you promised. And what he'd do if you broke that promise." straightened his cuffs. "Consider this your one warning. Stay away from Cadence, or I finish what the Costellos will start when they find you."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Marvin? If I ever hear you've spoken a word against me to Cadence again, I'll make sure the only thing they find of you is your watch."
The terror in their eyes was answer enough.
****
T HE PUNCHING BAG SWUNG wildly as 's fist connected with brutal force. Sweat ran down his bare chest, his breathing controlled despite the exertion.
Left hook. Right cross. Roundhouse kick.
The memory of Marvin's face played across his mind with each impact. The fear. The recognition that the "nobody" he'd dismissed was something far more dangerous.
had wanted to do more than threaten. Had wanted to make Marvin suffer for every tear Cadence had shed, every moment of self-doubt he'd planted in her mind.
But that would have raised questions. Drawn attention. And needed to stay in the shadows until he'd secured what mattered most.
That I loved you more than I ever loved them, and always would.
Her words from earlier echoed in his mind, throwing off his rhythm. The sincerity in her voice. The pain. The naked vulnerability that always made him want to both shield her and shake her.
How could she still be so trusting after everything?
"Working hard, I see."
didn't pause his assault on the bag. "What do you want, Simus?"
Onesimus leaned against the doorframe of the private gym, unfazed by 's hostility. "Chef would like to know if Mrs. de Laigny—"
"Don't call her that." The punch that followed split the leather of the bag.
"—has any allergies."
"She doesn't." delivered a vicious kick that sent the bag swinging wildly. "Now leave."
"Perhaps it would be better if you asked her yourself."
stopped, turning to face the older man. "I'm warning you, old man. Don't interfere."
"You might as well ask me to stop breathing." Onesimus's weathered face remained impassive, but his eyes reflected decades of loyalty—and the earned right to speak truths no one else dared.
"Simus, dammit."
"I was one of the reasons your marriage broke down—"
"She's the only reason our marriage fell apart." ripped off his gloves, throwing them aside. "Because she didn't trust me."
"You gave me a second chance."
The words landed like a physical blow. turned away, reaching for a towel. "You were grieving for your wife. That's how you ended up abducted. You had a weakness other people took advantage of—"
"And she doesn't have this? A weakness that her parents didn't take advantage of?"
"It's different." Even to his own ears, the argument sounded weak.
"I accept that," Onesimus said with surprising gentleness. "Because I can be replaced, but there can only be one woman for you—"
"She's not it." 's voice hardened. "She will never be it."
"And yet she is the only woman who has earned a second chance with you."
laughed, a harsh sound with no humor. "This is me killing two birds with one stone. I have a blood debt to her brother that I swore to repay. And while I'm keeping her safe, I'll take the opportunity to punish her as well."
"Keep saying that, and maybe you'll convince yourself one day." Onesimus stepped further into the room, his usual deference falling away. "You've already made several attempts to humiliate her. And failed. Because she is that determined to win you back."
tossed the towel aside. "I don't need your psychological analysis."
"No, what you need is to think very hard if this path you are on is worth losing any chance of having a life with her again."
The words hung in the air between them, too close to the truth for 's comfort.
"When did you become such a romantic, old man?"
"When I watched you tear your own heart out three years ago," Onesimus said simply. "And I've been watching you try to live without it ever since."
had no answer for that.
"Dinner will be ready at seven," Onesimus continued, as if the conversation had been about nothing more significant than the weather. "I told Chef no cilantro. She hates it but never says anything."
The casual observation was like a knife to the ribs. How many little details about Cadence had collected over their short marriage? How many did he still remember?
The way she sneezed in her sleep. How she looked in his oversized shirts. The cookies she baked at midnight when she couldn't sleep.
"I have a meeting," said abruptly. "I won't be back until late."
Onesimus nodded, unsurprised. "I'll let Mrs. Quinn know."
"Cadence," corrected automatically, then scowled at the slip.
Onesimus's smile was knowing. "Of course, sir."
After he left, stood in the center of the gym, suddenly restless. The punching bag hadn't helped. Nothing helped. Not one thing to block out the words that threatened to tear him apart—-
That I loved you more than I ever loved them, and always would .