Chapter 33
“Nothing in the world compares to walking in and seeing this,” Lachlan said, voice hoarse with emotion. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “She asleep already?”
“Crashed almost immediately after we ate dinner. She finished a whole goat taco. Didn’t pick over it or refuse to eat the lettuce and tomato,” Britt said, feeling like she was rambling. “I was so proud of her.” She hugged her arms tighter around Paloma, rocking her back and forth.
“That’s only because you made it. Don’t get used to it,” he chuckled, walking over to them. “Once she knows you’re not going anywhere, she’ll start giving you hell about what she eats like she does me.” He leaned down to place a kiss on Paloma’s head.
“I wasn’t sure if you wake her up to take a bath before bed or just let her sleep and bathe in the morning,” she said, finding comfort in focusing on the mundane routines and not the imminent threats hanging over their lives.
A ruthless gang was targeting her little girl because they thought her father had something they wanted—something they couldn't even identify but were convinced was crucial to maintaining the cartel's strength in the criminal world.
Britt had been livid when Lachlan returned to the SUV, ready to pack up their lives and flee the country with Paloma.
Disappear from the world just to keep their daughter safe.
The instinct to protect her had been all-consuming, blinding her to the more pragmatic approach necessary to outmaneuver their enemies.
It wasn’t a new fear.
And Lachlan had confirmed this truth.
It was the reason they’d moved to Dove Island.
To protect their child from the gang and the dangers that lingered around anyone important to Titus Freeman.
She’d been afraid that her father’s rivals would use her child to hurt him like they’d tried to use her.
Tried to kill her as she celebrated an engagement she never wanted on her father’s yacht.
“I never wake her if she falls asleep early. It’s such a rare occurrence,” Lachlan kneeled beside the couch. “I’ll take her and put her in bed, then we can catch up on my discussion with the guys.”
“I don’t want her to wake up. I’m fine holding her,” Britt insisted.
“Trust me. Our little hen sleeps like a hibernating bear. I could toss her in the air and catch her, and she still wouldn’t wake up.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I might have done it once or twice to check. I wasn’t wrong.
” He smiled and reached for Paloma. Britt reluctantly released the little girl and watched as Lachlan effortlessly carried her away to her room.
Pushing up from the couch, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whisky.
Pouring a shot in two tumblers, she returned to the living room just as Lachlan emerged from the hallway.
He regarded her with a nostalgic smile as he grabbed a glass.
“What?” Britt tugged at a strand of her hair. “Is this something I did before?”
“Yeah, after you transitioned Paloma from breastfeeding to formula.”
Britt blanched. “I breastfed?” She glanced down at her boobs, not able to imagine a little life suckling there as a flash of Lachlan invaded her mind.
His mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking and licking, driving her wild with desire.
She inhaled a sharp breath as heat pooled between her thighs.
Now was not the time to get turned on by the handsome Scot.
“You hated every second of it, but did it faithfully for the first year of her life as the doctor recommended. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for our baby,” Lachlan said, then took a sip of the liquor. “You do know that she’s ours. Mine and … yours.”
Britt held his gaze. “Now more than ever. When we get the DNA test results back, I’ll have the proof of what we both know is true.”
“Good.” Lachlan looked relieved. He leaned forward and kissed her softly.
His lips lingered against hers delicately and with such tenderness that it made her heart ache.
She loved him so much that it was becoming impossible to ignore.
To resist claiming what she knew was hers.
But she was determined to wait until she had the official results.
She needed them, even if Lachlan didn’t.
“So,” Britt said, with a sigh, leading Lachlan back to the couch. He sat down, and she sat next to him, leaning against his body. “What’s the new plan now that we’re fighting two threats—The Visitor and Alejandro Cerundolo?”
“Same as the old plan.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher what he could mean.
“The meeting with Hunter gave us more proof of what we know is true. The picture of the man we showed you back at the compound was of Alejandro Cerundolo. He’s the man behind your kidnapping. The one who hired The Visitor to brainwash you,” Lachlan said, dropping a theory she’d never expected.
“My ex-fiance? Are you serious?” Britt asked, then listened as Lachlan laid out the evidence supporting Stingray’s theory.
Her mind pieced together each key point, laying them out in a carefully constructed case that led her to the same conclusion—Alejandro Cerundolo was the most likely person behind her faked death, captivity, and attempted murder.
The Visitor was just a hired hand used in his diabolical plans.
And Hunter was wrong.
Alejandro had more than enough reasons to want her dead.
“All of that makes sense, but you still haven’t told me the plan.”
“The safest place for us is on King Family land with access to the King Family security team as well as all the intelligence networks, surveillance capabilities, tactical equipment, and trained operatives of Stingray at our disposal.” Lachlan held her gaze with unwavering conviction, determined to make her see his reasoning.
“Hunter basically confirmed that everything we did to protect Paloma from Titus worked. He may have found enough information to figure out that you and I had a child, but he couldn’t find me. Quattro couldn’t either until—”
“You enrolled Paloma in Goat Scout camp,” Britt said, her mind assembling the facts like evidence. “And you only did that because you thought she was finally free of danger with Titus dead.”
Lachlan looked away, self-loathing etched in his rigid muscles.
“Lachlan,” Britt rested a hand on his heart. “You can’t blame yourself for wanting to give your daughter a normal life. You had no idea that she or you were on Quattro’s radar.”
“I still should’ve waited more than twenty-four fucking hours before I sent my little girl out into the world to be targeted by gangsters. I knew better.”
“She’s fine. No one hurt her. Now that we know what’s going on, we’ll make sure that no one will,” Britt said, her mind already calculating the lengths she’d go through to keep Paloma safe—the sacrifices she was willing to make. “But she’s going to be upset she can’t return to camp.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t think so?”
“If the alternative is spending all day with you, I don’t think she’ll mind.”
Britt smiled, then leaned her face into Lachlan’s neck as he wrapped his arms around her.
Lachlan continued, “We reassigned extra security to watch over the two of you while I’m gone—”
“Gone?” Britt raised, placing her glass on the coffee table. “Where are you going?”
“To meet with Alejandro Cerundolo and give him something more valuable than your life. Something worthy of a secret investigation by Titus Freeman,” Lachlan said.
“And what the hell would that be?”
“Intel on Quattro from the PISCO secured military networks. Between Sebastian, Ike, and me, we made a list of all the ops we remembered being on that targeted the gang. Bobby will hack into the systems and see what he can find. Once he finds something, I’ll set up the meeting.”
“Hacking into special ops military networks isn’t child’s play.
They have multi-layered encryption protocols that change every six hours and biometric authentication that would recognize even the slightest irregularity in access patterns.
Not to mention the quantum-secured firewalls and AI-driven intrusion detection systems that have kept out nation-state hackers for decades.
And even if Bobby gets in, there’s no guarantee that the files on those ops contain anything useful now.
You could make an enemy of the PISCOs and come out empty-handed.
” Britt paused as Lachlan stared at her with growing wonder as if seeing yet another facet of the woman she’d been.
“Did you know you were proficient in cross-border conspiracy and classified intelligence litigation?” Lachlan asked, stroking a hand through her hair.
“Not to mention transnational syndicate prosecutions, covert operations law, and organized crime statutes,” Britt rattled off.
“All those details are cataloged in my brain,” Britt said, then reached for the glass.
She downed the whisky in one gulp. “Too bad the rest of my damn memories aren’t there with them. ”
“Hey, take it easy on yourself. You’re already starting to remember more. The rest will come to you. I promise. Just be patient,” Lachlan said, pulling her back into his arms. “And as for Bobby, he has a connection inside that’ll help facilitate this search. He’ll be able to get what we need.”
“What if it doesn’t work? What if Alejandro still wants me dead?”
“Then I’ll enact my original plan—”
A loud knock pounded on the door. It was nearly eleven—too late for a friendly visit. Lachlan transformed before her eyes, his tender expression hardening into the cold calculation of a man preparing for confrontation. His hand instinctively moved toward his back, where he kept his weapon.
“Who do you think that could be?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but go into the guest room and lock the door. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out,” he said.
“I’m not leaving you.”
Lachlan stood from the couch, carrying her up with him. “You can go on your own, or I can throw you over my shoulder, caveman style, and take you in there. Your choice.”
“Caveman style? I might like that.” She bit her bottom lip.
“Naughty girl—”
The knocking intensified, each strike more demanding than the last.
“Please,” Lachlan pleaded.
“Fine. I’ll go.”