Chapter 32
The location was too remote for Lachlan’s liking.
As he descended the narrow dirt path that dropped steeply between moss-covered rocks, weaving deeper into the dense, humid jungle filled with towering palms and vibrant tropical foliage, he stopped to look behind him every few minutes.
He didn’t put it past Britt to sneak down the trail after him.
That’s what she’d do if she had all her memories.
She wouldn’t have been satisfied, hiding in the vehicle’s third row, forced to listen to his conversation with Hunter Quaid over comms.
Hunter Quaid, who’d sparked a memory in Britt.
A memory she’d conveniently dodged sharing with him despite his attempts to get her to open up.
The name hadn’t triggered any memories of his own, not that Britt had shared much about her previous relationships with him.
Lachlan hated to think that this man could be another one of Britt’s exes, like Alejandro Cerundolo.
But he couldn’t jump to conclusions, especially since he needed information from the man.
It would be easier to get it if he wasn’t irritated by the thought of him being a rival for Britt’s affections.
Lachlan knew the truth. He had no rivals.
Britt was his and had been from the moment he pulled her from the tepid waters of the Caribbean Sea seven years ago.
Stepping over gnarled tree roots and fallen palm fronds, Lachlan understood why Hunter chose the location.
The dense copse of tangled jungle trees, blustering winds, and crashing waves against the cliffs made the perfect spot for an exchange that required complete isolation.
The winding trail took him further into the bowels of the jungle, swallowing him whole until he could no longer see the path back to the SUV.
Checking his watch and adjusting his earpiece, Lachlan reminded himself that he didn’t need to worry about Britt.
He’d left her with a weapon and a burner phone programmed to call Bobby at the touch of any button.
Bobby lived in the affluent neighborhood of The Bluffs with his wife, Remi Spade.
At any sign of danger, Bobby could be at the trailhead in less than five minutes.
Backup wasn’t just close by. Bobby was listening to the comms with Britt, recording the details for the team to review later.
Lachlan had the hard part—convincing a former ride-or-die Quattro enforcer to help him get a meeting with Alejandro Cerundolo.
Following the curve of the trail, Lachlan slowed as a figure lurking near a natural stone arch came into view.
Hunter Quaid stepped forward, looking nothing like a man on the run from the cartel that had banished him.
Dressed in tailored cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary, Lachlan registered the dual-carry belt system beneath Hunter’s untucked shirt, likely harnessing twin Glocks, the bodyguard’s weapon of choice.
The guy could pull both guns and have them on a target in the blink of an eye—a skill that had kept him breathing in situations where most would have ended up dead.
He was that good, so killing Titus Freeman required a specialized approach. One a bodyguard couldn’t thwart.
“You came alone?” Hunter asked, peering past Lachlan at the trail behind him.
“Alone, but not unarmed.” Lachlan rested a hand on his weapon, hidden in a slim-profile holster at the small of his back.
“Smart man,” Hunter said with an appreciative tilt of his head, accompanied by the faintest upward curl at the corner of his mouth—the universal sign of one professional acknowledging another's awareness of the game. His dark eyes held Lachlan’s with the penetrating scrutiny of someone accustomed to identifying threats in milliseconds.
Lachlan presumed he passed the test when Hunter uncrossed his arms and hooked his thumbs casually in his belt loops.
“A broker reached out to me about meeting with you. Said you needed a favor. Time sensitive. Critical.”
“And you agreed to meet even though we’ve never met before,” Lachlan said, unable to hide his curiosity. “Why?” Lachlan's shoulders tensed as he waited, the humid air making his shirt cling to his back.
“I’ll get to that later.” Hunter shut down the line of questioning. His eyes narrowed, the movement of his gaze almost imperceptible as he checked their surroundings again. “What do you want?”
“A meeting with Alejandro Cerundolo.”
Hunter laughed.
“I’m serious.” Lachlan crossed his arms to stop himself from punching the man in his smug, laughing face.
Hunter’s laugh subsided. “Why do you want to meet with him?”
“One of our clients at Stingray Security was chased through the streets of St. Felipe by a man we later found out was Quattro. He had a knife. It was clear he wanted to kill her. But since she’s lost her memory, she has no clue why Quattro wants her dead or what she can do to get them off her back.
I want to help her stay alive. The best way to do that is to go straight to the top. ”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Hunter said, shaking his head. “No one in Quattro wants to kill that woman.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Hunter’s expression clouded as he massaged the side of his face.
Seconds of silence stretched between them before he spoke again.
“I was … honorably … dismissed from the cartel. Sure, a few of my former colleagues are disappointed enough that I couldn’t prevent Titus’s murder to want me dead, but that’s not the prevailing view of me.
” Hunter’s hand flexed and clenched at his side.
“I’m not in the right headspace to be anyone’s protector.
Not after watching Titus die on my watch and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it.
” His voice dropped to a pained whisper, eyes momentarily unfocused as if seeing Titus's death replay in his mind. “But I’m still connected enough to … hear things.”
“So, you’ve heard about this woman?” Lachlan held his breath.
“He went after her because he thought she looked like Titus Freeman’s daughter. But she’s not Brittany,” Hunter insisted fiercely, a flash of raw grief crossing his face.
“Wasn’t Titus’s daughter killed a few years ago?” Lachlan’s finger hovered over the comms switch, hoping Britt realized he was going along with the story for her protection. No one in Quattro could know she was alive and safe with him.
“In a car bomb.” Hunter’s stoic facade cracked. “Nothing would make me happier than if Britt was alive. I’d give anything for that to be true. Trade my life for hers. But I know it’s not. Britt was murdered. She’s dead.
"Alejandro personally recovered Britt's remains and returned them to Titus, giving him peace and the ability to bury his daughter,” Hunter said, his voice hollow with grief. “That’s how I know whoever this woman is, she’s not Britt Freeman.
Trust me, Titus had testing performed to confirm it was his daughter.
Britt’s gone, and now her father is, too.
” Hunter’s eyes glistened with barely contained devastation over the deaths.
The man had a deep love for them, one that went far beyond professional respect.
Hunter spoke about Britt and her father with the familiarity of someone who’d been in their inner circle.
Who’d not only witnessed but had been welcomed into private moments with them.
Lachlan’s stomach twisted with jealousy, wondering exactly what role this man had played in Britt’s life.
Lachlan had no reason to doubt the information from Hunter, especially since he gave details that further supported Alejandro as the mastermind behind Britt’s faked death and captivity. The best way to convince Titus that his daughter was dead was to provide the body—Alejandro had done that.
The fucker played the role of the heartbroken ex-fiancé while he tried to force new memories of him into Britt’s brain.
When it didn’t work and Titus was murdered, Britt became a liability that Alejandro couldn’t afford as the new leader of the cartel.
Her story was too familiar to the elaborate deceptions Alejandro had exacted on threats in the past—manipulating their memories to benefit Quattro.
The whole cartel would turn on him. He’d lose his new power and his life.
Lachlan exhaled. “So, you’re telling me that a case of mistaken identity is why the Quattro gang member chased our client. No one in Quattro knows who she is or wants her dead.”
“That’s right,” Hunter said, then added. “Can’t say the same about you, though.”
“What the fuck did you say?” Lachlan blurted, his blood running cold.
“Quattro didn’t send a team to St. Felipe because of that woman. They were there to kidnap a little girl named Paloma Ritchie.”
Ice flooded Lachlan’s veins at the mention of his daughter’s name. Every single muscle in his body coiled tight. The jungle around him blurred as a cascade of protective fury obliterated everything except one devastating thought: they knew about his child. They were hunting his little girl.
Hunter raised his hands as if sensing the lethal rage wafting from Lachlan.
His eyes softened as he said, “I don’t know if you’re connected to the child or if sharing the last name is just a coincidence, but Quattro planned to kidnap her and use her to get to you.
” He pointed a finger at Lachlan’s chest. “I’m not surprised you’re in private security, considering you’re skilled at staying off all radars.
That just makes Alejandro want to find you even more. ”
“Why the hell is Alejandro Cerundolo looking for me?”
“Because Titus was looking for you.” Hunter’s response was more disturbing, registering the threat with violent clarity.
“None of us knows the specifics, but you had something precious that Titus wanted. And that makes you extremely important to Alejandro.” He took a step toward Lachlan, lowering his voice.
“He’s desperate to find out what Titus wanted from you and get it.
He’s convinced it’s the key to solidifying his position as the new leader of Quattro. ”
Lachlan's blood ran cold as the pieces clicked into place. Titus hadn't been looking for some object or information—he'd discovered Paloma was his granddaughter, Britt's child. The cartel leader had been searching for his legacy, his bloodline.
And that knowledge had died with him.
But Alejandro would continue the hunt without understanding Titus’s reasons, making him infinitely more dangerous.
Hunter confirmed Lachlan’s worst fears.
“And he’s not above using a child to get what he wants.”