Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wade
My office was quiet except for the sound of Thomas typing on his laptop. The sun had set hours ago, turning the ocean beyond the glass walls into ink punctuated by moonlight.
Marie had been asleep for three hours now, exhausted from the emotional weight of seeing her girls.
My iPad sat propped on the desk beside my monitors, the security feed showing my bedroom. Marie was curled on her side under my sheets, knees drawn up and one hand tucked under her cheek, peaceful and safe.
Every time I viewed her on the iPad, I thought of the interesting things my boys had taught me. Things I was putting to very good use now that Marie was in my life.
I wasn't planning on letting her go. Not ever. The thought had crystallized sometime between carrying her to the car and watching her fall asleep in my arms. This woman was mine now, beyond the attraction or the protection, or even the care I felt for her.
If she wanted time with her father, I'd arrange it. If she wanted to visit her old home, explore the island, reconnect with friends—I'd facilitate all of it. But I'd have eyes on her twenty-four seven.
I’d know everything she did, everywhere she went, everyone she spent time with. I’d ensure that no man got close enough to take the place I wanted in her heart.
The place I needed in her heart.
I'd seen it earlier, in the hallway outside the facility—how my praise had made her melt, made her go soft and trusting in my arms.
It wasn't just a trauma response; it was her nature trying to break through. Beneath the survival instincts, there was a sweet, affectionate woman who wanted to be held.
She didn't just need a caregiver because she was hurt; she needed one because she had too much love to give and nowhere to put it.
After five years of being responsible for everyone, of carrying impossible weight, of never getting to be vulnerable, she needed someone to take the burden off her shoulders.
She needed a daddy, and I was more than capable of being that for her.
I wanted nothing more than her complete, absolute trust. I wanted her to know that I'd protect her from everything, including herself. I wanted her to be my girl in every sense of the word.
"Sir?" Thomas's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "The background check on Marie's father is complete. Nigel Rivers, age sixty-two, retired fisherman. Clean record, no criminal history, still living in the same house where Marie grew up."
“Same information as before.” I pulled up the file and scanned the information.
Nigel Rivers looked older in his photos—his sun-darkened skin, gray close-cropped hair, and face bore the marks of decades of hard work on the ocean.
Strong features, kind eyes. I could see Marie in the shape of his face, the set of his jaw.
"Get me his phone number. I want to call him tonight."
"Sir, it's nearly midnight.”
"His daughter has been missing for five years." I met Thomas's eyes steadily. "If someone called me at midnight to tell me Jovie was alive, I'd want to know immediately. Get me the number."
Thomas typed rapidly, and within seconds, a phone number appeared on my screen. I picked up the phone and glanced at the iPad showing Marie sleeping peacefully. She’d kicked the duvet off one foot, an adorable habit I was already memorizing, and then I dialed.
It rang four times before a rough, sleep-heavy voice answered. "Hello?"
"Mr. Rivers?" I kept my voice calm and professional. This conversation required delicacy. "My name is Wade Easton. I'm calling about your daughter, Marie."
I was met with silence. Complete silence.
"Is she—" His voice broke. "Did you find her body? Is that why you're calling?"
The pain in those words made me shift—I could feel it in my own chest. "She's alive, Mr. Rivers."
"What?" The word came out strangled, disbelieving. "That's not—you can't—"
"She's alive, she's safe, and she's here with me." I let each word land, gave him time to process. "Marie escaped three days ago. She found me, asked for help, and I’ve provided medical care and protection."
The sound that came through the phone was a gasp that turned into a sob."My baby girl. My Marie. She's really—you're not lying to me? You're not some kind of sick—"
"I'm sending you a photo right now." I pulled up an image from this morning of Marie in the cream outfit that my security cameras had picked up. "Check your phone, Mr. Rivers."
I heard fumbling, then silence. Then a sound that was definitely a sob. "That's my daughter. That's—oh God, that's my baby girl. She's alive. She's really alive."
"She is." My voice was soft, understanding. "She's been through significant trauma, Mr. Rivers. She was held for years.”
"I knew it." His voice was fierce through the trauma. "Everyone told me to give up. Police said she was probably dead, friends said I needed to accept it and move on, but I knew. I knew my Marie was out there fighting to come home."
The absolute conviction in his voice was that of a true father. This man had never stopped believing. He’d waited five years without wavering, without giving up hope. The kind of father every child deserved.
"You were right to keep believing." I glanced at the iPad again, at Marie sleeping peacefully. "Your daughter is incredibly brave. She not only escaped, but she also saved the other women. She gathered evidence, brought it to me, and we extracted all of them. She's amazing.”
"She gets that from her mother." Pride and pain mixed in his voice. "Marie's mother passed when she was young. She had to grow up fast and strong. She's been taking care of people her whole life."
Understanding of why Marie carried so much responsibility, why she felt guilty for surviving, why she protected everyone but herself clicked further into place. She'd learned young that her role was to be strong for others.
"She needs to learn it's okay to be taken care of, too," I said quietly.
"Is that what you're doing? Taking care of my daughter?"
"Yes." There was no equivocation. "And I plan to continue doing so for as long as she'll let me."
There was a long pause. "Thank you for helping her and bringing her back. I don't know who you are, Mr. Easton, but thank you."
"She brought herself back," I corrected. "I just provided the resources. But there's something I need to ask you."
"Anything."
"When Marie sees you tomorrow, and it needs to be tomorrow as she needs rest tonight, where would she be most comfortable? I can arrange for you to come to my estate. It has full security, privacy. Or if you think somewhere else would be better—"
"Home." He didn't hesitate. "Bring her home to the house where she grew up. She needs to see that everything's still here, that her room's still the same. That Honey's been waiting. That I've been waiting."
The answer made perfect sense. Marie would need proof that her life hadn't disappeared in her absence. That she still had a place in the world.
"What time?" I asked.
"Whenever she's ready." His voice was thick with emotion. "I've been waiting five years, Mr. Easton. I can wait a few more hours. Just please take care of her until then. Please make sure she knows she's safe."
"She knows." I looked at the screen, at my girl sleeping in my bed. "I promise you, Mr. Rivers, she knows she's safe. And I'll bring her home to you tomorrow."
"Home." He repeated the word like he couldn't quite believe it. "My Marie's coming home."
We ended the call, and I sat there processing the weight of what tomorrow would mean. For Marie, seeing her father after years. For Nigel Rivers, getting his daughter back. For me, watching Marie reclaim another piece of her life.
"Clear my schedule for tomorrow," I told Thomas, already pulling up security protocols. "I'm taking Marie to see her father personally."
Thomas looked up from his laptop, and something like surprise crossed his face. "Sir, you haven't cleared your schedule for this long in... I can't remember the last time."
"I clear it when I visit my family," I pointed out.
"Exactly." Thomas's expression softened into approval. "The only times you do so are when you go to see your children. It's good to see you taking time for what matters."
"She's good for me," I acknowledged, the words coming easily. "Marie is good for me."
"I can see that." Thomas smiled slightly. "You seem more like the man you were before everything became about business and strategy."
I thought about how Marie had crashed into my life and made everything else feel unimportant. She made me want to clear my schedule, carry her to cars, and watch her sleep on iPad screens. She made me want to be the man she saw when she looked at me with those trusting eyes.
"Arrange security around the Rivers property," I instructed, getting back to business even as I acknowledged Thomas was right. "Discrete, non-threatening, but present. If anyone approaches that house tomorrow, I want to know about it immediately."
"You think she's still in danger?" Thomas asked.
I thought about the ledger, about the names we were systematically eliminating. About how operations like The Orion didn't run without powerful people protecting them. About how Marie's escape had likely made some very dangerous people very angry.
“She's simply mine to protect.”
Thomas nodded, already typing. "I'll arrange everything. I’m glad you found her, or she found you. However it happened."
"So am I." I looked at Marie sleeping on the screen, peaceful and safe, and completely unaware that I was already planning her future. I echoed the words again. “So am I."
Tomorrow she'd see her father and start reclaiming her past. But her future? Her future was already decided.
It was with me.
I left Thomas to handle the logistics and made my way upstairs to my bedroom. The hallway was quiet, moonlight streaming through the glass and painting everything in silver and shadow.