Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
SALVATORE
Keeley’s still sleeping when I wake up, so I move her crutches closer to the bed and quietly close our bedroom door behind me. My lips pull into a smile as I stare at the handle.
Our bedroom door.
This is our bedroom.
I gave her the option to move back home when she was better, but I’m going to fight hard to ensure that doesn’t happen. It’s only been a few days, and it already feels like a home.
I’ve always loved her in my space, and this is no exception. Actually, it has one major difference. It never felt like my space until Keeley walked into it.
When my agent told me this house had come onto the market, I knew I had to have it, even though I couldn’t figure out why.
Now I know.
It was for Keeley. For us. For our future. And I can’t remember a time where I’ve felt so at home. Even when I lived with Camilla and my kids, as sad as that sounds.
After making a few calls, I’ve just started cooking omelets for breakfast when Keeley calls out from the upstairs landing.
“I’m coming down. Don’t freak out.”
“Wait.” I chuckle under my breath. “I can help.”
“No,” she calls back, her tone curt. “I’m a grown-ass woman. I do not need to be carried anymore.”
“Your loss.”
I’m anxious while I cook, despite laughing at her sassy independence. The reason she’s in a cast in the first place is because she fell down stairs. I’m not nervous about her being incapable of making it down on her own; I’m worried she’s carrying trauma she hasn’t yet acknowledged.
With a deep breath, I flip the omelet in the pan and smile in relief when I hear Keeley’s crutches clacking my way.
“You made it?”
“I did. Only now I wish you’d secretly purchased a single-story home.”
“No, you don’t. You love the view.”
“Okay, fine. Did you make breakfast?”
“I did. Why don’t you head outside and I’ll bring it out when it’s ready. There’s a blanket already on the chair for you. It’s a little cool.”
Keeley smiles to herself as she turns toward the patio, her face free of makeup, her body clad in simple silk pajamas, and my heart races at how beautiful she is.
How incredible my life is. If I can start my mornings like this for the rest of my days, I’ll be the wealthiest man on the planet, money aside.
I finish plating up our food and meet Keeley outside, where she is basking in the summer sun, despite the cooler temperature, and breathing in the salty air.
She’s admiring the view with the blanket wrapped around her, her arms resting on our deck railing, her auburn hair blowing in the light breeze.
I’m quiet as I lower our plates to the table, my eyes on her as I make my way over and curl my arms around her waist.
“How is it so quiet here?”
“It’s a private beach. The only people with access are us and the neighbors on either side. And I have it on good authority that the couple on the left use their place as a vacation home, weekends mainly, while the couple on the right spend their summers in France.”
“Lucky them.” Keeley smiles at me over her shoulder.
“And lucky us.” I press a kiss to the edge of her lips as my hand lowers to the waistband of her pajama shorts.
“Won’t our food go cold?”
“We can reheat it.”
“That doesn’t sound appealing.”
“Then I’ll make it again when we’re done. Who needs food anyway?”
Keeley giggles as she twists to face me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I guess I can be persuaded to eat later.”
“Good, because I want to eat now.”
Keeley melts into me as my cock pulses, and my phone chooses that moment to blare in my pocket, making us both jump.
“Jesus. That’ll be someone from New York,” I say, retrieving my phone, ready to toss it onto the lounge until I see that it’s Austin.
“Goddammit. I have to get this.” I blow out a breath, squeezing the phone in annoyance.
“Are you allowed to answer a work call when you’re dressed like that?” Keeley laughs, her brow raised with sass as she gestures to my black jeans, polo shirt, and bare feet.
“It’s not a video call, Keels. I think I’ll be fine.”
“As long as you’re sure. I’m shocked you’re not in a suit.”
“Get used to it. This is how I dress when I’m home.”
“You still wear a polo shirt?”
“I do. So what?”
“So, we’re going to change that. When I’m finished with you, you’re going to be walking around in athletic shorts and an old T-shirt. Or maybe just a towel. That would be convenient.”
A laugh bursts out of me as I shake my head. “I’ll be back. This isn’t over.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I leave Keeley in peace and call Austin back, crossing my fingers for good news. “Sal.”
“Hi, Austin. Tell me you have something positive?”
“Unfortunately not.” My stomach sinks at the gruffness of his tone, my eyes drifting back to Keeley outside.
“I’m ready. Lay it all out.”
“You’re being tracked. You and Paige. I had one of my guys in San Francisco put a tail on you, and it was the first thing he discovered.”
“Fuck. That’s not good.”
“I know. I suggest you increase Paige’s security detail and get some for yourself, because the Mikklesons are not messing around anymore.”
“Why? It makes no sense. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. The DA has plenty of evidence against them. I have no doubt they’re going to prison with or without Camilla’s and Paige’s testimony.”
“That’s the second piece of news. Remember when I said they’ve been keeping their inner circle tight?”
“I do.”
“Well, it turns out, that inner circle is getting restless. One of my men overheard Mikkleson’s nephew acknowledging that he’s on a sinking ship. We offered him a hundred grand to tell us everything he knows.”
“Meaning, I owe you money.”
“You do. But we can settle that at the end. Are you sitting down?”
“Why the fuck would I need to be sitting down?”
“For what I have to say.”
“I’m not going to have a heart attack, Austin. Just tell me.”
“Fine.” He chuckles softly and I almost tell him I’m not in the mood. “Camilla knows more than she told you. More than she initially told the police, and the Mikklesons are worried.”
“Jesus Christ. That woman.”
“Yep.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No, and neither did he. Though he claims it’s going to be explosive. It could be the difference between a shorter sentence for embezzlement and the maximum penalty for their white-collar crimes.”
I finally sit down, dropping my head into my hand. “In other words, their threats are about to get worse?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Any grand plans for how we can stop it?”
“Not yet. I’m working on it. I plan to keep Mikkleson’s nephew on the payroll in case he comes in handy. Hope that’s okay?”
“Yep. Do what you have to do.”
“Really?” His pitch rises as if I’ve changed my tune on illegal activity, and I laugh.
“You’re already bribing someone for information. That’s illegal enough for me.”
“You’re the boss.”
I am, but that doesn’t mean I know what the hell I’m doing. I’m actually at a complete loss.
After trying to get ahold of Camilla—with no luck—I call the security company I use and increase Paige’s security team, adding Isaac and Easton to the mix.
It’s at least thirty minutes before I finally join Keeley again, yet she’s still smiling.
Until she sees me and her smile melts into a panicked frown.
“What happened?”
“The Mikklesons aren’t messing around anymore, Keels. I’m being tailed.”
“Shit.” She straightens in the lounge chair she’s now occupying, and subtly glances toward the beach. “That’s bad, I guess, but not exactly unexpected. Right?”
“Probably not. Only it’s not me I’m worried about. They’re tracking Paige too.”
“Oh, fuck, Sal. What are you going to do?”
“I wish I knew. I’ve added more security to Paige’s detail and?—”
“She’s going to love that.” Keeley cringes comically and I huff out a laugh.
“Is it bad that I don’t care? I’ll do anything to protect her, even if that means pissing her off.”
“She’ll understand. Though might I suggest including her in the conversation, so she doesn’t freak out to find she’s suddenly surrounded by strange men.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good. Are you still going to New York tomorrow?”
“Fuck, I don’t know.” I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands. “I want to be here for Paige, to convince her to stay, but?—”
My phone chimes, cutting me off, and I pause before checking it. “This’ll be Tabitha confirming my flights. Maybe I should cancel.”
I pull my phone from my pocket, and my blood boils the second I read the texts.
UNKNOWN: Last chance to walk away. It’s time to protect your assets.
UKNOWN: And while you’re at it, you might want to protect your family too.
“Motherfucker.”
“What’s wrong?”
I drop down onto the lounge chair by Keeley’s legs and curl my palm around her thigh, needing her warmth to ground me before I do something stupid. With a deep breath, I hand her my phone before standing up again and pacing the patio.
“Motherfucker,” she repeats my sentiment, making me laugh even though it’s far from funny. “Can you trace this?”
“I can send it to Austin, but it’s most likely a burner.”
“God, you’re right.”
“I have no idea what to do anymore, Keels. I’m ready for a simpler life.”
Keeley frowns, and her eyes dart to my phone once more before widening as she glances my way.
“You have to go to New York.”
“I’m not so sure. It’s?—”
“No,” she cuts me off, her voice firm with conviction. “You have to. I’ve got an idea. You’re going to want to sit down.”
Why the hell is everyone asking me to do that today? I guess that means I’m not going to like this. “Hit me with it. Because I’ve got nothing.”