Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
PRESENT
Rio
Kat’s father is here. Front gate. Pronto.
The second I read the words, I’m up. No hesitation.
Paul is here?
Urgency slams through me. I don’t even think—I move.
Theo is on the couch, carving out the backside of his wooden pig.
I crouch next to him, keeping my voice light. “Bud, I need to check something out at the gate. You okay hanging with Luis for a bit?”
He shrugs, barely acknowledging me. He’s too into his project to notice my pulse is roaring.
Good. The last thing I need is for him to see me like this.
I push to my feet and make a beeline for the kitchen, where my dad is half buried under the sink, cursing under his breath at whatever pipe he’s pretending he can fix.
“Dad,” I speak quietly. “I need you to watch Theo.”
He slides out, wiping grease off his hands, eyes immediately narrowing. He knows this tone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not sure yet.”
His gaze sharpens. “Santiago…”
“Just keep Theo inside. Don’t let him out of your sight. Watch him with the knife.”
His expression darkens, but he nods. “Got it.”
I sprint through the door, boots pounding.
Paul Castellanos is here.
And I don’t know what the hell I’m walking into.
Paul steps out of his black sedan like a man who has never been denied a damn thing in his life. His suit is perfectly tailored, his hair still dark, barely touched by gray, as if time itself wouldn’t dare mark him.
He scans the ranch, appraising it, gaze flicking over toward our pastures—looking for leverage, for weaknesses. Like he’s already three moves ahead in a game no one else knows they’re playing.
And when he assesses me?
His eyes are calculating. Cold. He’s already dismissed me as a threat.
Good. Let him.
That way, he won’t see it coming when I take his ass down.
Mila stiffens at my side, sensing the shift in the air. My pulse kicks up. My hands clench at my sides. My body screams at me to get him the fuck out of here before Kat arrives.
But before I can even confront him, the quick patter of footsteps crunches on gravel. She’s jogging toward us, her hair bouncing with each hurried step, her breath coming fast. And without a second of hesitation, she reaches for my hand.
The moment our palms connect, Paul’s sharp gaze snaps down to where we’re joined. His face barely shifts, but it’s there—a tight swallow, the blink that lasts a fraction too long. He has to reset himself.
Because we weren’t part of his plan.
But Kat isn’t letting go.
Her fingers clutch mine, knuckles pale from the pressure, her grip like steel. Even though we agreed to lay low, us together like this is a statement.
Solidarity. Reassurance. A middle finger to her father, wrapped in the simplest, most devastating gesture.
I squeeze back.
Paul takes a step forward, his polished shoes gleaming in the sunlight. He tilts his head at Kat, a smile curving his lips, practiced and smooth.
“Katinka.” His voice is silk over a sword .
I step forward before she can answer, my body a wall between them.
“What do you want, Castellanos?”
Paul’s smile doesn’t falter. But his nostrils flare in irritation. “And who are you to demand answers from me?”
“The man taking care of what you couldn’t.”
Kat’s fingers tighten around mine.
Paul responds as if I’ve just said something quaint. “Ah… The cowboy.”
I should be over this. But standing here now, with Paul Castellanos staring at me like I’m nothing more than dirt under his Italian loafers?—
I feel twenty-one again. The same untamed fury I swallowed back the night he tore Kat from me claws its way up my throat.
Back then I let him win. I let him gut me, strip me down to nothing, take everything that ever mattered and walk away without a scratch.
But that was then.
Now?
I don’t break for this man anymore. And I sure as hell don’t lose to him.
I breathe in, deep, measured. Control is a thin, fraying thread. I step closer.
Deliberate. Unhurried. Just enough to make him feel it—the balance of power shifting in my direction. Let him fight a man he can’t manipulate. He’s in my world now.
I hold his gaze.
Let him see exactly what’s waiting for him if he so much as blinks wrong.
When I finally speak it’s low, dark, lethal. “Step careful, Paul. I let you take everything from me once. Try it again— just fucking try—and I will end you so completely no one will even remember your goddamn name.”
Paul stares at me for a mighty long time. I know his instincts are to fight me back, but thank God he thinks better of it.
Eventually, he tears his gaze from me and places it on his daughter. “I was worried, Katinka.”
She laughs. It’s sharp, bitter, and it hits me in the chest. Because I’ve heard that laugh before, back when she had to armor herself.
“Worried?” she echoes, folding her arms. “That’s funny. I don’t remember you worrying about me much before.”
His smile tightens, but he smooths a hand over his tie like he’s adjusting his composure. “The FBI raided my offices this morning.”
Kat’s posture doesn’t budge.
He watches her. Watches for a reaction. Like he’s already calculating his next move.
“They’ve been investigating Pacific Dreams.” His tone is so calm, so measured.
But there’s tension in his shoulders. “Do you understand just how dangerous this has all become?”
Kat is the picture of unimpressed. “Dangerous?”
I swear to God, I feel her sharpening herself like a blade.
She knows who she’s dealing with. How careful she has to be. I’m so fucking proud of her—she’s not going to let him lead this conversation.
“Why would I need to worry if everyone is innocent?” She’s strong and direct. “If Nic was innocent... If you’re innocent... We’ll all be okay in the end, right, Father?”
The mockery is so delicate, so subtle—but it’s a fucking masterpiece .
His smile goes stiff. His hands clasp in front of him. “You were married to Nicholas. You shared a home with him. Do you know what kind of man he was?”
A long beat of silence.
Kat lifts her chin, a queen assessing a pawn. “I know enough.”
My jaw clenches so tight my teeth ache. Every cell in my body is screaming to put myself between them.
Paul takes a step forward; he doesn’t glance at me but he thinks better of taking another. Kat stands her ground, but her shoulders tighten.
Santi, let her handle this.
My fingers twitch at my sides, my stance shifting just enough to be in striking distance. If he so much as raises a hand, I swear to God, I’ll send this motherfucker to Hell with one punch.
But Kat meets his stare, unflinching, unshaken, and my chest swells with pride and pure, undiluted rage all at once.
She shouldn’t have to fight this fight. But she’s choosing to.
Paul’s gaze sharpens with careful, veiled urgency. “Do you know enough to keep yourself safe? To protect Theo?”
My jaw clenches.
He’s fishing. Does he suspect she has evidence? Or worse—does he already know about the flash drives?
Kat crosses her arms, cold as hell. “Theo and I are safe here, Dad. We don’t need your concern.”
“But you do need protection.”
I growl. “She has protection.”
His tone shifts toward something darker. “This is the Mafia we’re talking about. They don’t play games. If you have anything—anything at all—they’ll come for it. They’ll use whatever leverage they can find.”
My fists curl so tight my knuckles crack.
“She’s safe here.” My words are pure steel. “And she doesn’t need your advice.”
Paul finally meets my eyes and sneers. “What exactly can you offer her?” He gestures around us. “A ranch? A few horses? A couple of stable boys who think they’re men?” He scoffs. “You’re out of your depth, boy.”
“What I offer is something you’ll never understand—loyalty.” I bare my teeth. “Unlike you, I’m here for her. Not for myself.”
Kat’s hand presses against my chest. “Santi,” she murmurs. “Let me.”
I stand down because this is her fight, too.
And I want to see her win it.
She levels Paul with a stare so cold, it lowers the air temperature. “You don’t get to walk in here and play the hero.”
His mouth flattens into a hard line.
“You don’t get to act like a father now.”
She takes a step forward; her energy is pure fire.
“You’re not worried about me. You’re worried about yourself.”
His face hardens.
And she goes for the kill.
“You’ve never protected me, Dad.”
She strikes through him, firm, final and undeniable. “You protected your empire.”
Probably for the first time in his life—Paul Castellanos has nothing to say.
His gaze shifts between us, calculating.
His silence brims with unspoken threats, thick and unrelenting. A warning without a single damn word .
Then, like he knows pushing won’t get him anywhere, he gives a stiff nod.
“I hope you truly understand what you’re up against.”
Kat steps in, closing the space between them, shoulders squared, chin high. Every inch of her is controlled, locked down like a dam holding back a flood. But underneath, I see it—the crack, the wound she’s trying to keep from splitting wide open.
“For what it’s worth, Dad… if you ever want to be the father I deserve, you know where to find me.”
Her words are a heavy blow.
Paul falters. Just for a second.
Is it regret? Doubt? It’s gone before I can pin it down. He buries it under years of practiced control.
No apology. No fight. No attempt to take back what can’t be undone.
He just turns and walks, that same measured stride, like he didn’t just lose. Like this doesn’t gut him.
But I know better.
The car door slams. The engine hums to life.
And just like that—Paul Castellanos is gone.
As the car fades down the drive, Kat's knees buckle. I catch her, drawing her in, holding her tight. She shakes against me, the fight finally catching up to her.
I press my lips to her hair, tightening my grip, holding the pieces together. Using all my might to keep her from breaking.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I murmur, “I’ll always have you.”
She nods against my chest; her fingers clutch my shirt like I’m the only thing keeping her upright. The night is heavy with fear and fragile hope, but one thing is clear: Paul might have tried to tame her, might still believe he holds power over her—but he doesn’t .
Not anymore.
I tuck her tighter against me, but my eyes lift toward the tree line.
The fight settles deep in my bones, heavy and worn. But something else creeps up my spine—cold, hard, and sure as a loaded gun.
Paul was a reckoning we couldn’t outrun.
But the next one?
It’s already here.