Chapter 18 Ego
Ego
Of course I’m smiling. Grinning like a jackass in love. Because I am.
Fully, completely, without a single fucking doubt.
We got back to Jersey on Sunday.
And I stayed the night at Sabrina’s cute little townhouse, curled up beside her in a bed that’s definitely too small for both of us.
She sprawled across me like a human blanket, her thigh tossed over mine, her hair tickling my chin, her soft little snores making my heart do this weird thing I can only describe as happy.
Yeah, I’m happy.
And I haven’t been happy in a long goddamn time.
I stayed again Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday.
Her place is charming, if tiny. Not enough room for both of us—not with the life I plan to build.
So I’m already talking to a realtor.
Discreet off-market properties only. I want a place with space.
A backyard.
Maybe a clawfoot tub so she can soak in after a long day of wrangling tiny humans.
Hell, maybe even a fireplace.
Something cozy.
Safe.
Something hers and mine.
Ours.
Because my intention is clear.
I'm going to propose.
Yeah, it’s fast. So what?
I’ve always been decisive.
When I was a kid, my parents would take us to restaurants, and while my idiot brother was still reading the appetizers, I already knew my order—down to the side dish and the dessert.
Still do that now.
I walk into a store, I know in five minutes if they’ve got what I want.
And no woman—not a single one—has ever caught my attention like Sabrina.
She’s it for me.
It’s her or no one. And I refuse to settle for no one.
So yeah, I’m smiling. Like a lunatic.
Because last night she didn’t even try to put back on her nightgown after we made love.
She just curled up beside me and let me hold her. Soft, warm, naked—perfect.
So I just held on—all night.
And that was after I told her to sit on my face—God, that sweet, stunned look she gave me before she actually did it?
Fucking priceless.
And then the way she moved and moaned?
Yeah. That sound is carved into my bones now.
Because my Angel?
She’s made for me.
She doesn’t even know how perfect she is—how her curves drive me insane, how her lips taste like honey and fire, how her body fits mine like it was handcrafted by angels just for me.
And no one else will ever touch her. Ever.
I’m the only man who can bring out that sultry, uninhibited side of her.
The only man she trusts enough to let go with.
She knows it.
Maybe not all the way—not in her head—but her heart knows.
Her soul knows.
Her body sure as hell knows.
And I can’t wait for the rest to catch up.
But I will. I’ve got time.
Forever, if I have to. If she needs it.
Right now, I’m sitting in the truck outside the school, scanning the perimeter, running recon while she starts her day inside.
Kai’s got eyes on her classroom.
I already swept inside.
She's probably standing by the chalkboard, singing some silly morning song with a bunch of snack-smeared five-year-olds, or saying their morning prayer, wearing one of those little cardigans and making someone’s day just by smiling.
But I’m the one who gets to go home with her tonight.
And if I play my cards right, I’ll be the one who gets to go home with her every night.
Only me. Because that curvy teacher is mine. Only mine.
And I get to kiss her soft, warm skin.
Bury myself inside her.
Watch her fall asleep in my arms.
So yeah. I'm smiling like a fucking fool.
Sabrina Rosetto is the literal woman of my dreams.
And I'm going to spend the rest of my life loving her.
My head’s in the clouds, thinking about her—about Sabrina’s sleepy smile, the way she clung to me when I left her bed this morning, muttering something about cinnamon rolls and cuddling.
I kissed her forehead, promised her the moon, told her I’d be back in bed with her tonight, and when we left together, I felt like a man with purpose.
Because I am.
I’m all hers now.
Which is probably why Noel has to bark my name twice before I register that I’m not just listening in on the morning conference call—I’m supposed to be participating.
“EGO,” Kane snaps, his voice sharp through the Bluetooth comm. “You want to stop daydreaming about your girlfriend long enough to focus?”
I blink and straighten in the driver’s seat of the truck parked outside Sabrina’s school.
Windows up.
Engine idling.
Eyes already scanning the front entrance on reflex.
“Yeah. Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m here. Go ahead.”
Noel exhales like he’s used to my shit but doesn’t have time to give me hell for it.
“We’ve got a problem.”
I roll my shoulders, tension settling in. “How bad?”
“Bad enough I’m calling you during your cushy school shift instead of waiting for debrief.”
My gaze sweeps the building—windows, doors, corners, blind spots.
All clear.
For now.
“Talk.”
“We found the brother last night—”
“You didn’t fucking tell me that—”
“Because we lost the motherfucker minutes after locating him.”
My blood runs cold.
“So Marco’s in the wind.”
“Yeah. Disappeared sometime in the middle of the night. Ditched his hotel room, left the surveillance team I assigned eating dust, and there’s more.”
My jaw tightens. “How much more?”
“That Hammerfall Technologies crew that caught you off guard on Broadway?” he says evenly. “They hit the location minutes after Marco bailed. Ransacked the place.”
I close my eyes for half a second. I hate the reminder—but he’s not wrong.
“Son of a bitch,” I growl. “You think he’s headed this way?”
“We don’t think,” Noel says. “We know.”
My stomach drops.
“The last traffic cam hit places him just outside Newark heading north. Solo. Driving a nondescript black SUV. Unmarked—fuck it could be ours. Which means he either found a way into a pretty high-tech motor pool or he’s not just a dumb hacker.”
“What the hell is he doing?” I mutter. “Think he knows we’ve got active protection on his sister.”
“Don’t know, but, well,” Noel replies, voice grim, “seems like he’s out for himself. Who knows what this SOB wants to get out of her? Money, blood, or worse.”
I scrub a hand down my face, anger simmering beneath my skin.
“You think he’s trying to hurt her? Use her?”
I know what Kane means, and it’s making my blood boil. There are some things more valuable than access keys on the black market.
Like pretty American sisters, for example.
Over my dead body, Motherfucker. And I have no intention of dying yet.
“I wish I knew,” Noel says. “I do think he’s planning to disappear for a good long haul this time. Maybe he just thinks he can squeeze money out of her before he runs. Point is—he doesn’t trust anyone. And he’s scared.”
My teeth grind together. “Scared means dangerous. Desperate.”
I glance down at my hands, flexing my fingers, trying to keep them steady.
I need to protect her.
I will protect her.
She’s sweet. Soft. Too good for this mess.
My mind flashes to this morning—the lavender shower bomb she insisted we use. Me, grumbling about smelling like a florist. Her laughing, telling me it was relaxing.
The way I tickled her until she couldn’t breathe, then kissed her until I couldn’t.
Perfect.
Right.
Ours.
I inhale slowly. Lavender still clings to my skin.
I still smell like her.
And I fucking love it.
No. Nothing happens to her. Nothing.
If I have to find her shitty brother and end him to keep her safe, I will—without hesitation.
But she wouldn’t want that.
So I’ll find another way.
“Ego?” Noel cuts in. “Pay attention. It gets worse.”
“Worse?” I ask flatly. “How?”
“We intercepted chatter and verified it through Interpol. There’s movement. And they’re not being subtle.”
I stiffen. “Hammerfall?”
“No. This is black-market,” he says. “Whoever Marco sold the keys to—and then shorted. It’s bad.”
My throat tightens. “Who?”
A beat.
“Chekhov.”
Fuck.
I know that bastard.
Old-country Bratva.
No honor code. No lines. No mercy.
Chekhov is the kind of man who’d slice the pretty smooth, skin right off Sabrina to gain leverage on her asshole brother without blinking.
Not on my fucking watch.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Landed in Newark last night under the alias John Snow.”
My fingers curl hard around each other.
Fuck. This is bad.
“You think he’s here for her?”
“I think she’s part of it,” Noel says. “Bait. Leverage. Or both. This is bigger than we thought—old alliances, buried debts. And your girl’s sitting right in the middle of it.”
“I’m not letting anything happen to her.”
“Good,” Noel replies. “Because your orders are to stick to her like a second skin. After school today, she’s taking a vacation. We’re clearing it with the principal now.”
“Roger that.”
My nerves buzz, adrenaline kicking in.
I want off this call.
I want inside—where I can see her with my own eyes.
Kai’s inside. He’s good.
But he’s not me.
“And for fuck’s sake,” Noel adds dryly, “keep it in your pants when you’re on the clock, Romeo.”
I snort. “I can multitask.”
He ignores that. “I’ve looped in Less. Jack’s still out of the country, but we’re reinforcing your position.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ve got her.”
“Don’t get careless,” Noel warns. “Love makes people miss things.”
Then, quieter—deadlier, he adds, “And Ego?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let her out of your sight. If Marco, Hammerfall, or fucking Chekhov shows up, I want eyes and steel between them. Capture first.”
“You got the first part,” I grit out. “But if anyone lays a hand on her—”
“I know, but it’s my job to say it,” Noel cuts in. “I get it, though. She’s your priority now.”
The line goes dead.
I sit there a moment longer, gripping the wheel until my knuckles go white.
Sabrina doesn’t know any of this yet.
Doesn’t know she’s standing in the center of a goddamn hornet’s nest.
Doesn’t know her brother might be about to drag hell straight to her door.
But I do.
And the thought of her in danger scares the living fuck out of me.
Which means one thing.
Whoever comes for her?
They better be ready to die trying.