Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
PRESENT
The first light of dawn creeps in, stealing across the sheets like a quiet warning. I wake to the steady rhythm of Kat’s breathing beside me, her body warm, tucked close. The scent of sex still lingers on my skin. For a few precious seconds, I pretend there’s nothing outside this bed that can touch us.
Then reality creeps in—the ’Ndrangheta. The cameras. The fact that last night, I let myself forget any of it existed.
The world is still waiting to rip her from me.
I glance down at her. Her hair spills across the pillow, dark and wild, her lashes fanned against flushed cheeks. There’s a softness to her now, a weightless kind of peace, and I swear to God—I’d burn the whole world down to keep her this way.
Peaceful. Safe. Mine.
It takes everything in me not to reach out and trace the curve of her cheek, to remind myself this moment is real. Instead, I stay still, listening to the quiet symphony of the ranch waking up—the nickers of horses in the distance, the faint rustle of wind through the trees, and the steady hum of life beyond these walls. My God, amidst all this chaos, somehow life has never felt so right.
Her eyes flutter open, and when they meet mine, I’m fucking caught. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Morning,” she whispers, her voice husky.
She throws the cover off her side, exposing most of her torso, but she hugs the blanket over her chest, giving me nothing but some side boob. I happily eat every last crumb of the view.
I trail my fingers up her ribs, mapping her skin.
Then I find it.
The space where her tattoo should be.
My heart stops. “Where’s your butterfly?”
She pulls her lips into a thin line.
Motherfucker made her laser it off? He’s lucky he’s dead.
She drapes her arm around me and pulls me close as if to calm me down, knowing I’m about to lose my shit. “I’d love to get it redone. Maybe if this blows over…”
“ When this blows over…” I correct.
“ When it blows over, we could see if Desert Bloom Ink is still open?”
She’s so damn cute some of my anger at him controlling her body drains. I comb my fingers into her dark mane and grasp the base of her skull.
“I’m not sure I have much space left on me, Michi .”
She cups my face and kisses me. “Guess you weren’t lying about loving art just to get in my pants then?” She glances up at the portraits on the walls. “There’s not much room left on your walls either.”
“I loved art then, but you gave me good taste.”
“I did one thing right.” Her gaze lands on my Dalí print with butterflies. “Is this your Monarch Hills room?”
“This is my you room.”
She turns my words over in her mind.
I trace my finger on the spot where that inked butterfly I watched her get should still be on her skin. “I named the ranch Monarch Hills so I wouldn’t forget you.” I laugh roughly. “I wanted to forget you at first. But when I knew that would never happen, I used the idea of you to drive me.”
Kat is the reason I became this version of me. The best version I could be without her.
“Some days I worked my ass off to prove I was good enough for you. Some days I did it to spite you. But in everything I did, there you were.” I kiss the top of her head. “So, I had no choice. I named the place thinking about that corny tattoo of yours.”
She squeezes me hard and lets out the cutest giggle. “It wasn’t corny. I loved it.”
“I’m sure you did. It probably made you feel like a badass,” I tease.
She tuts. “So what if it did?”
“I’m just playing. I knew the minute you started drawing under my tree you were a badass.”
“ Our tree,” she corrects. “And how so? ”
“Because that was one of the most stunning landscapes I’ve been around. And somehow, with oil pastels and some paper, you made it even more beautiful.” I kiss her nose. “That’s sorcery.”
My appreciation has her cheeks turning pink.
She stretches, the movement slow and unhurried, the ease of it makes my chest tighten. This is what I want for her—for us. A life where mornings aren’t rushed by fear, where laughter and light can seep through the cracks.
Unfortunately, there’s an elephant in the room and a little boy in the next, so I have to broach the subject. She’s either going to be completely understanding or hate me in a minute.
“We need to talk.”
“Theo…” she reads my mind. “He likes you. But we should take it slow.”
I’m relieved by her line of thinking, but there’s more to it. “Slow might be faster than works for me. Trust me, Kat, I’m never letting you go again now that I have you but I’m not ready to go public. I have my foster application out. Now I think on the whole it would only improve my circumstances to have someone like you in my life. But I can’t slow down the application with reassessment. Owen’s current foster parent is unwell, and he needs a new home soon.”
She tries to hide what sounds like disappointment. “So we’ll be a secret like before?”
I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. “It won’t be like before.” Emotion claws through me, heavy and unshakable. “That was the end. This is the beginning.”
Her lips curve into a smile, “I told you not to take it too fast.”
I huff out a laugh. “If you think I’m making the same mistake twice, you’re with the wrong man.” My grip tightens. “I’m yours, Michi . Get used to it.”
She giggles, and damn if it doesn’t send my heart into overdrive.
“So…” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Now that I’m yours, will you be my girlfriend?”
I expect an easy yes, something lighthearted to match the moment.
But she stills. So does the whole damn room.
Her lips part, then press together. A flicker of something flashes across her face—uncertainty, fear, doubt—there and gone before I can name it.
But I felt it. And it knocks the breath from my lungs.
For one awful second, I wonder if she’ll say no. If she’ll decide she can’t risk it. If she’ll let everything we just reclaimed slip through her fingers.
Thank God she doesn’t.
“Yes, Santiago Mendez. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
The relief slams into me so hard I have to close my eyes for a beat before dropping my lips to hers.
We linger in our kiss until Kat’s cell alarm goes off next to her. She leans over to turn it off.
“Theo usually stirs in thirty minutes.”
“Let’s get decent,” I say, sitting up.
She pulls me back down to the bed, and the surprise of it has me falling back into the space next to her.
“Do we have to?”
I crawl on top of her, pin her hands to the mattress above her head, and straddle her. My dick hangs down onto her soft belly, going instantly thick for her. “How am I going to keep my hands off your perfect body if you keep being a bad girl? Hm?”
We should get up, get dressed and be responsible adults. Instead, I press my cock right against the slick heat of her messy pussy. I’m losing my goddamn mind.
“This isn’t going to be easy.” I grit my teeth, fighting for control.
She smirks. “Guess you’ll have to try harder, cowboy.”
I put myself into her one last time. A slow, torturous drag that has her head falling back, a soft whimper slipping past her lips.
I growl. “Meet me back here at ten-thirty.”
She purrs, “You think you can wait that long?”
“Oh, I’ll wait.” I scrape my teeth down her neck. “But you’re not walking straight tomorrow.”
A soft breeze stirs outside the stables. The dust swirls, carrying the scent of leather, horse sweat, and faint traces of Kat’s perfume. In the distance, the pastures are a rolling sea of gold and green.
I convinced Kat that riding today would be a great way to take everyone’s mind off the impending doom hanging over us.
Theo carries a saddle to the stall, laboring hard because they’re heavy and it’s a huge hunk of leather in his tiny hands, but when I asked if he wanted help he gave me a firm no, so I let him prove he can do it.
He walks lopsided, occasionally releasing one of those one-syllable laughs of his when Keeper or Mila bump into him. The dogs are best friends now, they play without any notion of personal space. The sight fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction— as if the pieces of something broken are starting to come together.
When Theo gets closer to where one of our only two ponies at the ranch, Oakley, is hitched up outside, Owen takes notice and eases Theo’s load by grabbing the saddle and hoisting it onto Oakley’s back. I bought the ponies when we started mentoring with the charity organization, hoping to help out some young kids and bring them comfort through horses like I always found when I was younger. The way my chest swells watching Owen and Theo work together as a team has me thinking I’m some sort of expert at manifesting.
Kat stands beside me in the barn, watching Theo, wistfully. She’s leaning against the tack room door, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, but her posture isn’t guarded. Not today.
“He’s settling in,” I say, breaking the silence.
She nods, her gaze never leaving the boys. “Owen is so patient with him.”
“I wouldn’t say Owen is normally the patient type. I think this friendship is mutually beneficial.”
I reach for a saddle, the leather creaking softly in my hands. “Owen has the boys covered, Hector is all tacked up, and that just leaves you, Kat. You’ll like Fuego. He has all the get up and go Ares used to have but without the attitude.”
Her expression falters just slightly, and she bites her lip.
I reassure her. “You’ll be great. It’s in your blood. It’s like riding a bike…”
She cuts me off. “It’s not the riding. Are you sure it’s safe to leave the ranch?”
My mind wanders to the ranch offices, where Enzo and Ava are holed up. They’ve been picking apart the mess Kat landed in, hunting for angles, for weak spots.
It should make me feel better. But it doesn’t. Because I know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of when.
I pause, setting the saddle on Titan’s stall door. “Baby, this place is built like a fortress. The trails are all just around here. We’re not going far.”
She hesitates, her fingers brushing the edge of the stable door. “I know. I just… I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Then we won’t.” I use the same tone as when calming a nervous colt. The same way I wish I could calm her. “If you’d rather stay, we can figure something else out.”
Her eyes lift to mine, searching. I want her to find certainty there. I want her to know that if she falls, I’ll catch her.
“What if we stay on the property?” she asks finally. “Maybe a race on the track instead?”
The racetrack? That I have always, always reserved for my stud and training business. I don’t even take my horses on it. Neither do my brothers. When I first built it, I told them there would be two things I’d never share with them—women and that racetrack.
Her chin lifts. A glint sparks in her eyes with an old, familiar dare.
I hum, considering her challenge. “You think you can take me?”
She shrugs, but I don’t miss the way she sizes me up. Calculating. “Probably not. But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.”
Fuck, I love it when she’s feisty.
“You sure you want to lose in front of an audience?”
“Big talk,” she says, standing up straighter .
Somewhere in our back-and-forth, I didn’t even notice Owen sidle up next to us.
“Wait. Are you two racing?”
Now Theo is here, interested, too.
Owen’s eyes light up. “On the trails?”
Am I really letting her on my track?
This woman has already torn down walls I thought were impenetrable. And now I’m about to let her set foot on the one place I swore was mine alone?
Who the hell am I kidding? She can have anything she wants from me.
Still burning intimidation in Kat’s direction, I answer Owen, “On the track.”
His face falls. “Wait, but you said…”
“I know what I said.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “But Kat and I have unfinished business.”
And because saying no to her isn’t something I’m capable of.
I offer a distraction before they can argue. “We’ll warm up the horses, take a ride around the perimeter. Then, if you and Theo want more time, after our race, we’ll head to the indoor arena. You can pop some jumps, show off on the barrels, maybe teach Theo how to use a rope.”
But they’re barely listening. The boys have already forgotten about themselves.
They’re ready for a showdown.
The track shimmers under the afternoon sun, an oblong ring of earth bordered by sturdy fences and rolling hills. Theo and Owen sit perched on the top rail, their cheers and jeering carrying on the breeze. Keeper and Mila sit obediently at their feet, tails thumping in the dirt.
Kat mounts Fuego, her movements smooth and confident. She’s a vision, her hair catching the sunlight as she adjusts the reins and settles into the saddle.
I climb onto Chispa, shooting her a cocky grin. “Last chance to back out.”
She snorts. “Keep dreaming, cowboy.”
But when she pats Fuego’s neck, I see that prayer in her touch.
Owen raises his arm, his excitement contagious. “On your marks… get set… go!”
We’re off, the horses surging forward in unison. The wind rushes past, carrying with it the echoes of our past—a time when we were younger, wilder, and untethered. For a few fleeting moments, it’s as if nothing has changed.
Kat pulls ahead, her almost nervous laughter ringing out as Fuego stretches into a full gallop. She’s not unsteady but bounces around more than she used to. Her joy is infectious, and I can’t help but laugh, too, urging Chispa to close the gap.
It’s only five furlongs—twenty seconds at most—but damn if it doesn’t feel longer. I could pull ahead. I should pull ahead. But something in me won’t.
Instead, I watch her. The way her body moves with the horse, just a fraction off from what it used to be, her balance less instinctual than it once was. But the grit? The fire? That’s still there.
And so is the part of me that would still give her the world, even if it means letting her win.
We cross the finish line neck and neck, and I barely have time to process how fucking good this feels before she’s slowing down, her hair a mess of wind-tossed waves, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration.
God help me, I want to lay her down right here in the dirt and wreck us both.
I fucking loved every minute of that. I’m proud of the man I am, but sometimes, I miss my youthful abandon. A reckless race with no prize to win. The chase…
Kat swings down from Fuego. “That was amazing,” she says, smoothing her windswept hair.
“You still got it,” I dismount and walk Chispa over to her.
“So do you,” she says softly, her gaze lingering on mine.
Fuck, is it ten-thirty yet?
We walk our horses over to the fence where the boys are, our gazes connected magnetically. I don’t know if we’re in the present or the past anymore.
But before I can dream about what I’m going to do to this woman later, Owen’s voice cuts through the haze of my thoughts. “Do you guys smell that?”
My first instinct is to brush it off. But then?—
It hits me.
Acrid. Sharp. Wrong.
It’s smoke that doesn’t belong here. The kind that means destruction.
The air shifts, heavy and charged. My gut goes tight. Every muscle locks up.
Kat notices the change in me first. “Santi?”
I’m already moving.
“Stay here,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. I swing back onto Chispa, my pulse pounding as I urge him toward the perimeter where in the distance, smoke rises from the edge of our land where the trees are.
The smell grows stronger, the smoke thicker. I round the edge of the property searching for the source. Then, I see it—a small pile of brush, smoldering and spitting embers into the dry grass. I leap off Chispa, and at the same time, one of our perimeter security guards appears, running from his vehicle with a fire extinguisher. He douses the flames in white powder before they can spread.
“Well spotted, Damon,” I thank the guard.
How the hell did this happen?
The fire’s out now.
But the real threat is still standing. Red, jagged letters spray-painted across the dirt, stark and ugly against the scorched ground:
I’LL BURN YOU NEXT.
My fists clench, nails biting into my palms. The air around me tightens, shrinking, pressing in like invisible hands closing around my throat.
I scan the tree line, every nerve on high alert. Someone was here. Someone stood right where I’m standing now. And they want me to know it.
“Santi,” Damon’s voice is grim. “This wasn’t random.”
I already know.
This isn’t just a warning.
It’s a promise.