Chapter Seventeen
Isabella drifted toward the center of the lobby, keeping within sight of the security guards. The one Danny had flashed his credentials at—a tall Black man with a shaved head and muscular frame—kept a watchful eye on her.
She gave him a polite smile even as nerves spiked.
The wide-open spaces of the two-story marble and granite lobby shrank in on her. She’d spent years proving she could stand on her own two feet. One threatening note wasn’t going to change that.
Taking a seat on one of the nearby benches, she examined the enormous frescoes adorning the walls.
People milled about, the hum of conversation and the rap of heels background music as she admired the artwork. She sent a text to Danny that she’d be ready to leave in twenty minutes. That should give her and Talia enough time to enjoy their ice cream before Talia had to leave for her meeting.
The hair on the back of Isabella’s neck rose.
Someone was watching her.
She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.
She glanced up.
Her pulse thudded once.
Hard.
Then took off at a gallop.
The dark-haired, bearded man she’d passed at The Waverly on Friday.
He wore the same banker’s uniform as every other man in the building—a crisp white dress shirt and gray trousers with an oxblood belt and dress shoes in the same burgundy-brown shade.
“Ms. Strickland, I must speak with you.”
The intensity of the man’s gaze rasped across her skin like sandpaper.
“Who are you?”
“My name isn’t important.” He grabbed her arm, hard fingers digging into her skin. “You have to listen to me.”
She yanked her arm from his grip. “Get away from me.”
Danny wasn’t here. Neither was Talia.
Her gaze darted to the security desk.
The guard who’d been watching her had a cluster of visitors in front of him, blocking his view.
“You’re in danger,” the stranger hissed, the glint of anger in his dark eyes seeming at odds with his message. “You think you’re safe because you have security?” He gave a humorless laugh. “Not when you’re trusting the wrong person.”
A flicker of doubt brushed her mind.
He couldn’t mean Danny.
She took a step back, and he followed.
“What do you want from me?” Her gaze flicked to his hands.
No weapons that she could see. If he reached for her again, she’d smash the heel of her palm into his nose the way Danny taught her and scream bloody murder.
The man’s eyes narrowed at something over her shoulder before returning to her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. “You think what happened eighteen years ago ended when my father went to prison? It didn’t. My family was destroyed, and yours will follow if you aren’t careful.”
A deep voice came from behind her. “Ma’am, is everything okay here?”
Isabella whirled. The security guard stood at her back, his stare fixed on the man in front of her.
“Izzy!” Talia’s hail was sharp, echoing off marble as she rushed toward Isabella.
The stranger muttered a curse. He retreated, disappearing through glass doors into the August afternoon.
Talia reached her side. “Are you okay? Who was that man?”
Isabella locked her knees together to stop the trembling. “I don’t know.”
She took the paper cup of ice cream Talia offered, then turned back to the security guard, her pulse still pounding a violent rhythm at the base of her throat.
“Thank you.”
He frowned down at her, the concern in his gaze evident. “I can call Mr. Mayhew. He left me his number.”
The need for Danny was so strong she almost said yes.
How had she come to rely on him so quickly?
All she wanted to do was shrink into someone too small to be seen. To let fear make her choices for her.
She refused to live like this.
Not again.
“I texted him a few minutes ago,” she said instead. “He should be here soon.”
“Come sit down. Eat your ice cream before it melts,” Talia said before thanking the guard. “I’ll stay with her until Danny arrives.”
The man nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out. If that guy comes back, I’ll handle it.” He returned to his post.
Isabella scooped a spoonful of the ice cream into her mouth.
Normally, the rich, chocolatey creaminess and chunks of peanut butter cup would make her taste buds tingle, but today the decadent dessert tasted stale.
“I think he was Miran Hassan’s son.”
Talia stilled, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth. Something hard glinted in her eyes. “Did he threaten you?”
“No, he said I was in danger and trusted the wrong person.” Isabella’s throat tightened. “But then he threatened my family.”
Talia’s jaw set. “Maybe you do need a bodyguard after all.” She stood. “Come on. We’re waiting for Danny at the security desk.”
“Why?” Isabella reluctantly got to her feet. “The guard can see us from here.”
“Izzy, you can’t underestimate someone who’s been living with that kind of built-up resentment for so many years.” Talia’s expression sharpened in a way Isabella had never seen before.
“Call Danny.”
Danny stepped out of The Charlotte Times building, the late-summer heat hitting him like a wall. His phone beeped.
An incoming call from a Providence Bank number.
“Mr. Mayhew, it’s Lamar Coleman, Providence Bank security. You asked me to keep an eye on Ms. Strickland.”
“What happened?” Danny picked up his pace.
The lunch crowd flowed around him, business suits and tourists blurring together as he headed toward Providence Bank. His Mustang sat parked in the bank’s garage, seven blocks away.
“A man approached her in the lobby. He left pretty quickly after I confronted him.”
“Did he threaten her?” Danny broke into a jog, cutting across the first intersection against the light.
“I’m not sure. She looked pretty shaken, and so did her friend.” Lamar hesitated. “I asked if she wanted me to call you, and she said you were on your way, but I thought I should anyway.”
“Thanks. Is there security footage?”
“There are cameras all over the lobby, but you’re going to have to put in a formal request.”
“Tell whoever’s in charge to expect it.” Danny hung up and called Nathan.
“Yo, amigo.”
“I need you to request security footage from Providence Bank’s corporate lobby, time-stamped three hours ago to now.”
A cluster of teens blocked the sidewalk.
Danny veered around them, then sprinted across the next intersection as the light turned green. Sweat pooled beneath his arms and at the small of his back.
Nathan’s voice sharpened. “What’s going on? You sound like you’re on the move.”
“Someone approached Bella—I’ll send details as soon as I have them. Just get the request in.”
His phone rang just as he reached the entrance to Providence Bank.
He ignored it and pushed through the glass doors, his gaze a heat-seeking missile that homed in on its target—Bella—huddled near the security desk with Talia, her phone pressed to her ear.
Alive. Safe.
Air rushed back into his lungs, easing the tight band around his ribs. His eyes met Lamar’s, and he tipped his head in silent acknowledgment.
“Bella.”
Her head jerked up, the relief washing over her expression causing a strange flutter in his chest. “Danny.”
He didn’t care if it was unprofessional, or that they had an audience. He hauled her to her feet and pulled her into him.
Jesus—she felt too damn small in his arms. Easily broken if someone wanted to hurt her.
His gaze met Talia’s over Bella’s head. Something cold flickered in her eyes, then it was gone.
The best friend didn’t care much for him.
Right now, he couldn’t blame her.
“Danny—I need to breathe.” Bella’s voice was muffled against his chest.
He released her instantly, letting his palms slide down the soft skin of her exposed arms because he wasn’t ready to stop touching her.
She flinched.
Barely, but he caught it.
Faint finger-shaped bruises marred her upper arm.
Fury reduced his voice to a guttural rasp. “He touched you.”
Her eyes flared. “I’m okay.” Hesitant, as if she knew how close to the edge he was.
Stepping back, he flipped the mental switch he’d relied on as a SEAL—locking away any emotion that could get him or his teammates killed.
Mission mode.
“You don’t leave a secure space without me again.”
Bella’s posture stiffened, eyes narrowing, but she kept silent.
Good.
If she wanted to argue, they’d do it at home.
Not that she’d win.
“What did he look like?”
“Dark hair, dark eyes. A beard? He was dressed like every other man here—in a dress shirt and slacks.”
He looked to Lamar, who’d stepped out from behind the security desk to join them.
The man nodded. “Mid-thirties, around five-eleven, short black hair, a trimmed beard, olive complexion.” Precise and thorough.
When Danny looked at Talia, she shrugged. “I don’t have anything to add. I saw him hassling Izzy when I came back from getting us some ice cream. The guy bolted once Lamar showed up.”
Bella pulled in a shaky breath. “I think he’s Miran Hassan’s son.”
Omar Hassan.
Danny’s jaw set.
Nathan had been right.
According to Nathan’s background report, Omar’s mother had cut all ties with Miran Hassan after Bella’s kidnapping, relocating to northern California with Omar and his younger sister.
Apparently, Omar hadn’t.
If he had, he wouldn’t be standing in Charlotte threatening Bella.
“What did he say?”
“He said his father went to prison eighteen years ago.” Bella’s voice wavered. “And that his family was destroyed and, if I wasn’t careful, my family would be destroyed, too.”
Danny pulled up the photograph on his phone that Nathan had texted him. “Is this the man?”
Bella glanced at the photo, then at him, color leaching from her face. “Yes.”
Danny stepped closer, ready to sweep her back into his arms if she swayed.
Talia crowded next to Bella to look at Danny’s phone. She raised shocked eyes to Danny. “How do you already have this guy’s photo?”
“His name is Omar Hassan. We’ve been keeping tabs on him since his father died.” He showed the photo to Lamar, who nodded.
“He looked unstable,” Talia added. She looked pointedly at Danny. “Thank goodness Lamar was paying attention.”
The dig slid home like a stiletto between his ribs.
“Talia, you’re going to be late for your meeting.” The color had returned to Bella’s cheeks, and her voice sounded stronger. “Go.” She gave her friend a reassuring smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll call you later.” Talia hugged Bella and gave Danny an inscrutable look before heading to the elevators.
“Let’s go.” Danny held out his left hand, his shoulders loosening when Bella took it without objection, twining her delicate fingers with his. He kept his right hand free and undid the button of his jacket to make it easier to reach his weapon.
“You parked in the garage?” Lamar asked. At Danny’s nod, he said, “I’ll escort you.”
Danny liked how the other man kept his head on a swivel as they crossed the pedestrian skybridge to the garage and took the elevator to the floor where Consuela sat parked. “You former military?”
“Yessir. Army. Served time in the sandbox as an MP.” Lamar smiled at Bella. “Military police. Decided I’d had enough of that—you?”
“Navy.” Danny made a mental note to get Lamar’s information in case Dìleas was looking to expand resources in the Charlotte area.
After they reached his Mustang and said goodbye to Lamar, Danny drove Bella home.
She stayed silent, staring out the passenger window.
“Call your boss. You’re not going back to work. Not until I know it’s safe.”
Her head whipped in his direction, spots of color staining her cheeks. “I can’t just not show up to work.”
“AegisShield’s CEO already agreed to give you leave to work on the gala. I’ll be with you until the threat is over.”
He didn’t give a damn about the gala right now. All that mattered was keeping Bella safe.
If Miran Hassan’s son was out to avenge his father, he might not stop until he was arrested. Or put in the ground.
When they reached Bella’s home, Danny parked in the driveway and pulled up her security cameras on his phone. Nothing unusual showed.
Still, Hassan was a cybersecurity expert.
He led Bella inside, weapon firmly in his grip.
“You’re overreacting,” she whispered. Which would have been more believable if he couldn’t hear the strain in her voice.
“I’m reacting exactly as I should.”
Trip greeted them in the kitchen. He gave an uncertain thump of his tail at Danny, then nosed his way to Bella as if sensing the charged tension they’d brought home with them.
“Stay here.”
Danny checked the back door. Then the front. Moved from window to window, scanning each lock. “I’m changing your security code. And your Wi-Fi password. You’re not to share the new passwords with anyone—not Talia, not your parents. No one.”
Nathan would help harden her system so her Wi-Fi couldn’t be hijacked, and he’d install a backup power supply to keep the alarm system and monitoring active in case of disruption.
Bella watched, her hand still wrapped in Trip’s fur. “I hate feeling like this. Powerless.”
Her features were pinched, and there was a sheen to her eyes that made him want to wrap his hands around Hassan’s throat and slowly choke the life out of him.
He wouldn’t always be here to protect her.
“Then I teach you how to defend yourself. You don’t have to rely on your father, me, or anyone else to keep you safe. Not anymore.”
She gave a dismissive laugh. “More karate moves?”
“Firing range.”
Her brow rose. “Come again?”
“Ever shoot a gun, Bella?”
“No.” The response dragged from her lips, her gaze wary.
“Now’s the time to learn.”