Chapter 16
Marcus
“…Yes, I know it’s a rush. Just do what you can,” I say into my phone, pacing the short length of the hallway outside Mia’s room.
My voice is low but clipped, sharper than I intend.
“No, I don’t care about the overtime. Just get me something solid before the wedding, or at least enough to stall it.
And yes, I’ll wire more funds this afternoon. ”
The private investigator sighs, exasperated. “I can keep digging, Marcus, but you’ve got to understand—this guy’s careful. He’s left a lot of dead ends. And people don’t like talking about him. If you want real progress before Sunday, you’ll have to double the retainer.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustration mounting. “You’ll have it. I need results, not excuses.”
There’s a beat of silence. “You’ll have something, one way or another,” he promises. “I’ll be in touch.”
I end the call and slip the phone into my pocket, jaw tight. Money well spent if it saves Sarah, or Mia, or anyone else from Jason’s bullshit.
I turn and step back inside the room. Mia sits on the edge of the bed, knees tucked up, looking smaller than I’ve ever seen her. Tyler leans against the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. Alexander stands with his back to the door, pacing, the tension almost vibrating off him.
Three sets of eyes look up at me, all somber. Nobody says a word.
I clear my throat, try to steady myself. We’re running out of time, and the pressure is getting to all of us.
I pull up the PI’s email on my phone, scrolling through the latest notes.
“He finally found something concrete. Jason’s been using aliases for years.
In college, he went by Anton Watson—borrowed money from a girlfriend, then disappeared.
A few years later, he used a different name, got engaged, and cleared out his fiancée’s account before vanishing again. He’s done this more than once.”
Mia’s eyes widen. “Wait, in college? That’s where I met him. He wasn’t Anton Watson.”
I clear my throat, glancing down at my phone. “That wasn’t his first time going to college. Turns out, Jason is older than he appears. The PI thinks he’s in his mid to late thirties, maybe older. The baby face helps him blend in.”
Mia’s nose wrinkles. “Ew. Seriously?” She sighs, then shrugs, a spark of humor in her eyes. “Well, that tracks for me, I guess. I’m apparently attracted to older men.”
Tyler snorts, Alexander’s face tightens, and I try—unsuccessfully—to ignore the image that conjures. I look at the ceiling instead, struggling to keep my face blank.
“Focus,” Alexander mutters, shooting Mia a quick look, then turning toward me again. “Anything else?”
“He’d go to colleges, pick out classes strategically—places with rich kids, legacy admits, women with trust funds. He’d target heiresses, get close, work fast. Same story every time.”
Mia tilts her head, frowning. “But where was he getting the money to even afford college tuition? Room and board, even just the basics?”
I nod, tapping the phone. “PI thinks it’s all from his previous payoffs. One con funds the next. And he’s never staying long—just enough to make the next connection, get the next payout. Plus, the PI said he’s not working alone.”
Tyler’s jaw tightens. “There’s someone else?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe more than one. The money moves in circles—transfers, fake accounts, sometimes he’s just a face, not even the one making the plan.”
Mia lets out a slow breath. “So he’s been doing this for years, all over the country, and he might have backup.”
I nod, pushing through my own reaction. “We’ve got a pattern. We just need something recent. Anything that ties him to the money, or to a threat. That’s what will stick.”
She crosses her arms, nodding. “So we need proof, not just a history lesson.”
“Exactly,” I say. “And fast.”
Alexander shakes his head, jaw clenched. “It’s scummy as hell, but it’s not illegal. Dating rich girls, borrowing money, moving on… The cops won’t care unless we find something concrete.”
I pause, glancing up at the others, my throat tight. “And there’s something else. The PI found out Jason’s last fiancée before Mia is dead. Police ruled it a suicide.”
There’s a beat of stunned silence.
Mia’s face goes pale. Tyler’s fists clench.
“Jesus,” Tyler mutters. “Did he—?”
“No proof,” I say, shaking my head. “But the timing’s bad. She died right after Jason emptied her accounts and vanished.”
Nobody says anything for a moment. The air in the room feels suddenly thin and cold.
“But wait,” Mia says. “Isn’t he married? Remember I saw the text from his wife when I saw his other phone?”
“Yes,” Marcus says, frowning. “I think that’s a different woman.”
Mia hugs her knees tighter. Alexander looks away, anger flashing in his eyes.
“I got off easy, I guess,” Mia says, her voice harsh, hugging her knees tighter.
“He got distracted,” I say, trying to be gentle. “By Sarah. Maybe he thought she was the easier target.”
“It’s all my fault,” Mia blurts.
“No, it isn’t,” Tyler says firmly.
But Mia shakes her head, eyes glistening. “No, it is. I was planning on breaking up with him. I think maybe he could tell, and that’s why he started going after Sarah. Maybe he wanted to move on to the next before he lost out on me.”
That’s news to me. I glance at Tyler, and from his look, it’s news to him too. It actually makes sense—if Jason saw Mia slipping away, maybe he decided to lock down someone else fast. Mia is wealthier than Sarah, but Sarah would still be a decent score for a scammer like him.
Alexander rubs his forehead, frustration in every line of his body. “Don’t blame yourself, Mia. You’re not responsible for the way he operates.”
Mia puts her hands over her face, hiding the tears. I move to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed, while the others crowd nearby.
“Everything we do from here on out,” I say, “has to be with the fact in mind that Jason is capable of physical escalation.”
Tyler nods. “He’s already shown he’ll go after people—he tampered with the snowmobile, and that snowball at the rink?
He wanted to hurt us. But Mia—” He turns to her, waiting until she lowers her hands and meets his eyes.
“You’re the one at the center of all this.
You’re the only thing standing between Jason and what he wants. We need to move you.”
Mia wipes her face, frowning. “What do you mean, ‘move me’? Move me where?”
Tyler glances at us, then back at her. “Somewhere more secure. Somewhere Jason won’t expect. He’s desperate now. We can’t let you be an easy target.”
Alexander nods, and I put a hand on Mia’s shoulder. “He’s right. You’re not safe in the open, not until we get proof—or until the wedding’s called off.”
She looks at each of us in turn, fear and frustration fighting on her face. “So what, I’m supposed to hide?”
“For now,” Tyler says, gentle but firm. “Until this is over.”
Just then, Mia’s phone rings. She jumps a little, eyes wide, then checks the screen.
“It’s Mr. Beattie,” she says, her voice shaky but trying to sound normal. “He heard about what happened earlier and…he’s prepared a spa session for me. Said it might help me calm down.”
I give her a small smile. “You should go, Mia. Take the time. We’ll handle things here.”
She hesitates, glancing at each of us, but finally nods. “Okay. And I think you guys should head to the rehearsal dinner. It’s late as is. Sarah would notice you guys are gone.”
“We’ll go,” I say distractedly. Sarah can manage without us. Besides, she hasn’t called any of us yet. She probably doesn’t even know we’re not there.
Tyler squeezes her hand. “We’re not far. If you need us, just call.”
Mia gathers herself and heads out, and for the first time in a while, she almost looks at ease. The door clicks shut after her, and the quiet settles, heavy.
“We can’t force her to leave the lodge,” I say, glancing between Tyler and Alexander, “but if she won’t, we should at least keep her somewhere we can watch the door.
Her cabin’s out of the way, but we know the land, and the three of us can take shifts.
She’ll be safer there than wandering these halls with Jason on the loose. ”
Alexander frowns. “And what about Sarah? She’s still in the crosshairs. We can’t be everywhere at once.”
I nod, understanding. “The PI thinks he’ll have enough physical evidence by tomorrow.
Paper trail, transfers, maybe the burner phone.
If we can put it in Sarah’s hands—real proof, not rumors—she’ll have to call off the wedding herself.
Until then, Mia’s the top target. She’s the one person Jason can’t charm, bribe, or scare off.
She’s the only thing standing between him and Sarah’s money. ”
Tyler rubs his jaw, pacing the small room. “I hate this. Feels like we’re sitting on our hands. We’re not bodyguards. We can’t be with Mia every second.”
I watch him—he’s restless, his care for Mia coming out as pent-up energy, always wanting to act. He’s never been able to sit still when someone he cares about is in trouble.
Alexander stays by the window, arms crossed, looking out at the snowy yard below.
“We need more than just hiding her. If Jason’s desperate, he might not come at her directly.
He could try anything.” For all his hard edges, Alexander’s worry for Mia is obvious in the tightness of his voice, the way his eyes never stop scanning for threats.
I rest my hand on the table, steady. “We’ll do what we have to. One of us is always with her. Cabin doors locked. We make it through the night. Tomorrow, we show Sarah the evidence and end this.”
None of us are used to being helpless.
We’re all in the same boat, whether we admit it or not. It’s deeper than I expected—deeper than I want to admit. Whatever I’m feeling for her, I know it’s not just about sex, or protection, or some instinct to claim her.
It’s about wanting her safe, happy, and here with us—no matter how complicated that is.
And I don’t think any of us are ready to let go.