Chapter 45 #2
“Where are the guys? Why aren’t they with you?”
“They’re not here. I don’t have time to explain. I couldn't let them hurt you," she said, brushing her fingers against his jaw, the touch so gentle it was barely there. "Not because of me. Never because of me."
His hand found hers, gripping it with surprising strength. "We leave together or not at all."
The familiar stubborn set of his jaw made her heart clench. This was the man she loved—determined, loyal to a fault, refusing to bend even when beaten. And she was about to break his heart all over again.
"I need you to go home to Paloma," she said softly. "She needs you.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by refusal. "No. Whatever you're planning—"
"This isn't negotiable." She straightened, turning to face the room again. One more minute, and he’d convince her that the impossible was possible. She’d risk everything, putting his life in danger. Their daughter’s life in danger. She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.
Eyes narrowed, she made eye contact with each of the men as she spoke. “Miquel will escort Lachlan back to St. Felipe. Personally. If he arrives with so much as a scratch more than he has now, I'll hold you responsible, Alejandro."
She didn't need to elaborate on what that meant. Everyone in the room knew what happened to those who crossed her.
Miquel stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “Of course, Britt."
"The hell with that," Lachlan growled, struggling to his feet. For a man who had been tortured, his strength was remarkable. He towered over Britt, swaying slightly but refusing to back down. "I'm not leaving you here."
The memory of their first meeting flashed through Britt's mind—his determination to save her from drowning, pull her from the depths of the sea despite her fighting against him. He'd been just as stubborn then, just as protective. It was one of the countless things she loved about him.
But not this time. This time, his stubbornness would get him killed.
Because now she remembered everything—including the truth she'd kept hidden from him. The secret she'd never shared, not even when they'd built a life together. Not even when they'd had Paloma.
A secret that would put both Lachlan and their daughter in the crosshairs of enemies far more dangerous than Alejandro could ever be.
Her amnesia had freed her to have the life she dreamed of—her mind smothering her past, refusing to let it surface. It was the only way she could have the life she wanted. A life with Lachlan and Paloma, happy and loved.
But that wasn't an option anymore. Not if she wanted to keep them safe and alive, protected from this world that would destroy them … because of her.
She refused to subject them to tragedy. She couldn’t be selfish now that she had her memories back. Knew the truth of what a life with her entailed. The only way she could guarantee their safety was by cutting all ties with them, even if doing that would rip her heart to shreds.
She placed her palm against Lachlan's chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath her touch. Infusing her voice with a certainty she didn't feel, she said, “Your daughter needs you. Go home.”
Something in her expression must have reached him because his resistance faltered. "Britt—"
She leaned in, pressing her lips gently to his. The kiss was brief but filled with every ounce of love she felt for him. When she pulled back, she whispered, “If you love me, you’ll do this … for me.” She looked at Miquel. “Take him.”
Miquel nodded, gesturing to two of his men. They gripped Lachlan’s arms. He shook them off, his eyes never leaving Britt's face.
"Don't do this," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Whatever you're not telling me—whatever you think you need to protect me from—we can face it together."
"Not this time," she replied, forcing herself to maintain eye contact even as her heart shattered.
The men grabbed him again, more forcefully this time. Lachlan fought against their grip, his gaze never wavering from hers.
“This isn’t over. We are not over,” he shouted as they dragged him toward the door. "Do you hear me, Britt? I will find you!"
She didn't respond, couldn't trust her voice not to break. Instead, she watched as the man she loved was pulled away from her, his struggles growing more desperate as the distance between them increased.
At the doorway, he managed to break free for just a moment. "I love you," he called before they subdued him again, disappearing down the corridor.
The heavy metal door slammed shut with finality, leaving Britt alone with Alejandro and what remained of his men. The room felt suddenly colder, emptier without Lachlan's presence.
She inhaled deeply, straightening her shoulders. When she turned to face Alejandro, her expression had transformed—gone was the woman who had knelt before Lachlan with tenderness. In her place stood Britt Freeman, daughter of Titus Freeman, born and raised in the merciless world of Quattro.
Alejandro studied her with newfound wariness as if seeing another side of her for the first time. “Are you going to—”
“Yes,” she said, her voice hard as steel. “I am.”