The next morning, I followed Ethan down the hall toward the mouthwatering smells of bacon and coffee, with my forehead buried in the back of his shoulder, protecting my eyes from the sunlight that shone through the windows. It made for an awkward shuffle, but he didn’t seem to mind. After a long, sleepless week worrying about Ethan, and then the incredible body and soul reunion we’d had last night (and in the middle of the night, and once again this morning) I was so exhausted I could barely open my eyes, let alone walk upright, until I’d had a gallon of coffee, minimum.

Still, I couldn’t help thinking everything we’d been through had been worth it, just to feel the warmth of his hand around mine and the solid strength of his back moving beneath my cheek, to know beyond a doubt that my love for him was returned.

“I told you you could’ve stayed in bed,” he murmured, reaching behind him to grab my other hand and pull me more tightly against his back. “You need rest, baby.”

“Later,” I said into the clean, white cotton of his shirt, repeating my words from earlier. “We can rest together once you’ve debriefed the others and we’ve set things in motion.” The truth was, I didn’t want to miss a single second of him recounting what he’d seen and done in Bonneville, not only because the information he learned would help my client, but because I sensed Ethan might need my support while he told his tale.

He twisted his head and pressed a kiss into my hair. “So sweet,” he told me, like he could read my thoughts. Hell, half the time, I was pretty sure he could.

He pulled me to his side and tucked me under his arm, leaning against the hallway wall outside the kitchen. “Have I mentioned how hot you look in my shirt?”

I felt my cheeks get warm. “You showed me, remember?” I whispered, the voices and laughter in the kitchen reminding me that we weren’t really alone anymore. I’d seen nothing overtly sexy in me pulling on his button-down shirt—which was big enough to swaddle me to the thighs—along with my jeans, but Ethan had shown me how very wrong I was.

The hand wrapped around my shoulder brushed lightly over my breast, and the nipple instantly beaded beneath the lacy fabric of my bra as my eyes opened wide. I had zero resistance to this man; my desire was on a hair-trigger.

He smirked. “I figured that might get those pretty green eyes open. When we get in there, go sit at the table and I’ll bring you some coffee,” he said softly.

I shook my head at his behavior—and how pathetically well he was able to read my body already—but when we entered the kitchen, I obeyed without question. The sight of the table where he’d bent me over last night and the slight ache in my butt as I took my seat next to Caelan reminded me that this was a good choice.

The other guys had been bantering back and forth, but all conversation ceased when I sat down.

“Morning, you two,” Sabrina called from her spot in front of the stove, and I turned in my chair to smile at her. It was pretty handy having a professional chef in the house. “I’ve got scrambled eggs with spinach and goat cheese, bacon, home fries, and French toast casserole in the oven. I’ll serve it up in a minute. There’s some fresh sourdough on the table.”

I blinked. That was a shit-ton of food, and after living here for a week, I knew the Masters mostly stuck to bagels and donuts in the mornings. But then understanding dawned.

“Aw! A welcome-home celebration for Ethan!” I grinned at the other Masters as I turned back around in my seat. “You guys are awesome.”

Anson opened his mouth but shut it again after a glance at Sabrina. Xavier’s mouth twitched as he focused on his newspaper. Caelan hid a smile behind his coffee cup. Walker, of course, was the one who rushed in where angels feared to tread.

“Less of a celebration of Ethan’s homecoming,” he qualified. “More like a celebration that the two of you lasted the night.” He waggled his eyebrows and gave me a cagey grin. “You must be fucking starving after burning all those calories.”

Oh, dear God. I covered my eyes with my hand.

“Walk-er!” Sabrina cried.

I moved my hand from my face when Walker said “Ow!” and saw Caelan’s palm outstretched, like he had slapped Walker in the back of the head.

“Shut it,” he said severely. “You’re embarrassing Haven!”

“What?” Walker demanded, reaching for a piece of bread. “I was just sayin’ what we were all thinking.”

Anson’s answering snicker said that Walker wasn’t too far off the mark, and Sabrina sighed. She put a hand on my shoulder as she brought a platter of bacon and eggs to the table.

“Remind me to tell you about the first breakfast I had with these guys,” she told me, glaring at each of the men in turn. “A bunch of overgrown frat boys. It’s a wonder I didn’t change my name and head for the hills. If it hadn’t been for Caelan, I might have.”

Caelan smiled smugly, and Anson scowled. “Hey!”

“Do you deny it?” Sabrina asked, hand on her hip. Anson seemed to consider for a moment before grinning.

“Actually, no,” he said. “Just goes to show that you’d clearly fallen for my charms already.”

Sabrina laughed helplessly and went to grab more food.

Ethan sat down in the chair next to mine, sliding a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, and I sipped it gratefully. Oh, sweet caffeine.

“I think this goes to show we might need to consider upgrading our soundproofing,” Caelan suggested, splaying his big hands flat on the table. “Now that we have, ah, ladies to consider.”

“You know I don’t disagree,” Xavier said, pursing his lips in thought. “Though it’s hardly the priority right now. To put it baldly, I’d say privacy from outsiders—even contractors—is more important than privacy from each other. At least temporarily.”

“Exactly.” Walker nodded, still grinning hugely. “I say, if you’re gonna have loud, energetic, scream-for-a-higher-power sex in this apartment, you’ve just gotta expect you’re giving everyone else a show.” He winked at me, and I found myself smiling back at him.

I was by no means an exhibitionist, but it was hard to be embarrassed when the world’s biggest man-child was teasing you with that broad, white smile… and when the world’s sexiest man was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and glaring across the table like he would gladly strangle his friend on your behalf.

“You know what?” I said to the table at large. “You can mock all you like, I don’t care. I’m happy we could enliven your evening.”

Ethan squeezed me with something like pride, and whispered, “That’s my girl,” in my ear.

Sabrina nodded as she took her seat by Anson. “That’s the spirit. You can’t survive around here otherwise.”

I warmed at the idea that I’d be a part of this house, of this little family, permanently, even if it meant dealing with these guys.

“But,” I continued, “I cannot wait until you bring a woman back here, Walker. The payback will be real.”

“I beg to differ,” Xavier said, swooping in with his sudden, dry humor. “I can only imagine Walker bringing a flesh-and-blood woman back here will foreshadow the apocalypse, and I’m in no hurry to see that day arrive.”

The entire table collapsed into laughter, and Walker shook his head good-naturedly, sending a lock of his black hair into his eyes. He was a good-looking man—hell, all the Masters were—but there was a darkness in his gaze and a hint of pain behind his smile that hinted at the real man beneath the carefree facade. I wondered what kind of woman it would take to see that, and to truly understand him.

Ethan’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “Ready to eat, babe?”

I grinned up at him then lifted my hand to run it through his hair, mostly because he was fucking hot and because I could. “Starved,” I answered. “I mean, there’s no denying the calorie-burning thing.”

Walker hooted, and the others grinned. But after we’d all loaded up our plates, and Caelan and Walker had refilled their coffee, it was Anson who turned the conversation from casual teasing to the subject we’d all been thinking about.

“Ethan, you have names for us?”

Ethan took a sip of coffee and nodded. “First and foremost? Stella Bianchi. The woman has all the information we need to exonerate Luis, since she helped to put him away for his supposed crime.”

“Stella?” Xavier frowned. “Alberto Bianchi’s younger sister?”

“Yep. Thought that name might be familiar to you,” Ethan said. “Stella and Luis Rivera dated briefly a while ago. Not the romance of the century, from what Luis indicated, but she was gorgeous, and he liked her quite a bit. Problem was, Stella’s ties to her family ran deep.”

Xavier nodded. He glanced around the table and explained, “Stella and I met briefly at Robby Fletcher’s house party a couple of months ago. Alberto and Fletcher wanted to keep me out of the way while they discussed their business, so they asked me to show Ms. Bianchi a Mondrian painting that Fletcher had recently acquired.” He shrugged. “I was pleasantly surprised at how much she understood about art.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, and I saw Anson and Sabrina do the same. Xavier could be as snobby and condescending as he was intelligent and chivalrous.

“Yeah, I don’t think she remembers me quite as fondly,” Ethan said. “I met her a few years back at another of Fletcher’s parties.” He scratched his head. “I remember her having a prima donna attitude, but excellent taste in jewelry.” He took a bite of bacon and shrugged. “Fetched me a pretty penny. Now I wish I’d taken more.”

It was a testament to how far we’d come that this casual explanation wasn’t even upsetting enough to make me pause in chewing my French toast casserole. The man Ethan had been wasn’t the man he was, so if it sounded like he didn’t regret it much, that meant he thought Stella deserved it. It was as simple as that.

Xavier gave a humorless chuckle and speared a potato with his fork. “So you’re saying you’re not the person to talk to Ms. Bianchi and find out what she knows?”

“Yeah, no,” Ethan agreed. “Definitely don’t send me to deal with her. Frankly, I’m not sure any of us will be able to stomach the job after you hear what Luis told me.”

He pushed his plate away from him, and drew his coffee mug closer, nearly hunching over it. “So, Stella and Luis were dating, like I said. Her family fucking hated him, mostly for being Hispanic, or so Luis thought.” His eyes flickered to Walker, who grimaced. I guessed he’d encountered bigoted bullshit like that more than once.

“Could also have been because Luis’ parents ran a bodega in Queens, and as you know, the Bianchis only like to associate with the richest assholes they can find.” Ethan shrugged. “In any case, there was no love lost.”

“Stella must’ve been fucking hot, if mi hermano put up with that shit,” Walker said, shaking his head angrily.

“She’s very good looking,” Xavier confirmed. “Very.”

I looked at Sabrina, who appeared as startled as I was. From anyone else, that might have been a tepid endorsement, but from Xavier, it was tantamount to him jumping up on a couch and proclaiming his devotion.

“What happened?” Walker demanded. “Thinking with his dick was stupid, but not exactly a crime in New York State.”

“Thank God for that,” Anson remarked, pulling Sabrina against him. She batted his chest lightly with her palm.

“He and Stella went to a seedy little bar in Vinegar Hill one night,” Ethan said. He gave Anson a significant look.

“Silver?” Sabrina guessed, eyes wide and excited.

“He can’t recall the name,” Ethan cautioned, even as he nodded. “But the description he gave fits perfectly with what we know about the bar.”

“Did he know anything about my mom?” Anson demanded. “Shit. Does he remember seeing her?”

“No,” Ethan said gently. “No, man. He didn’t say anything about your mom. They didn’t exactly hang out there, given Luis’ relationship with her family. But they went one night because Stella and Luis were planning on leaving town, and Stella said Carmen owed her some money.”

“Carmen? The Carmen Bianchi Luis was convicted of raping?” I demanded.

“The very same.”

Caelan frowned. “Thought you said this wasn’t the love affair of the century. Why were they running away together?”

“Because Luis’ dad died, and his mom was struggling to keep the bodega open on her own. Luis wanted to get a job somewhere else, so he could send money back. Stella just wanted to disappear from her family.” Ethan paused. “Or so she said.”

He took a sip of coffee, then stared into the black liquid. “When they went to Silver that night, though, everything changed. Stella’s cousins were guarding the back room, and they didn’t stop her when she dragged Luis back there to meet Carmen. Stella said she didn’t care who was partying back there, she wanted what she was owed. But what they walked in on wasn’t a party.” He looked up, his glance making a circuit of the table before landing on me. “It was an execution.”

I bit my lip and pushed my own plate away. The food was delicious, but I couldn’t stomach it now, not after listening to this tale. I put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Go on,” I urged, but Ethan shook his head.

“Luis doesn’t know many details. Some guy the Bianchis had hired to put together an online scam had ended up stealing money from them. Skimming from their accounts, maybe.”

Walker frowned. “When was this, again?”

“Four years ago,” Ethan repeated. “Maybe a little longer. Why?”

Walker shook his head. “Never mind for now. Go on.”

“Well, Luis freaked. I mean, there was blood all over the place. He tried to play it cool, of course, but he said he could see from Carmen’s face that she wasn’t buying it. Carmen, meanwhile, freaked out at Stella. And Stella vomited on the floor. It was a nightmare.”

“Stella freaked out too?” Sabrina asked. “Thought she might be used to scenes like that, growing up with a family of mobsters.”

“Guess not,” Ethan said. “I mean, it sounded like they tried to keep Stella away from all that. She was a society princess, not a killer.” He shrugged again. “I have no fucking clue, kiddo. You’d have to ask her.”

Sabrina nodded, looking troubled.

“They kept him and Stella there until the next morning. Put the fear of God into both of them. Stella was practically bargaining her soul away to keep them from killing Luis just to shut him up.”

Walker snorted. “Too little, too fucking late. Jesus.”

“At least she didn’t hang him out to dry,” Caelan noted, still chewing his French toast thoughtfully. “She stuck up for him.”

“Well, kinda,” Ethan said. “See, after they left, Luis wasn’t feeling the love at all. Not toward Stella, and sure as fuck not toward her family.”

“Fair,” Xavier said. “I don’t know that I would have trusted any of them.”

“Right. So he did what any law-abiding citizen would do. He went to the police.”

“Aw, fuck,” Anson said. Walker winced. Caelan shook his head. Even Xavier pursed his lips regretfully.

“What?” Sabrina demanded. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is that the Bianchis, like most criminal organizations, have cops on their payroll,” I said sadly.

Ethan’s arm came around my shoulders once again. “Exactly. Most cops aren’t bribable—and believe me, I know this for a fact—but there are a few who get tired of living hand-to-mouth on a civil servant’s salary, and still more who can be blackmailed or coerced into doing things. Once you’ve worked for a criminal just once, you’re in their pocket for life.” He shook his head bleakly.

I sighed. This was the part of Ethan’s past I hated—hated hearing about it and hated that he had to relive it.

“Anyway,” he said, shaking off his despondency. “Grab your computer, Walk. I’ve also got the name of the detective Luis spoke to, and we definitely need to look that up.”

“Fuck yeah,” Walker said, popping up from the table and striding out the kitchen door. He returned a moment later with his tablet in hand. “Shoot.”

“Detective Wyatt Porter,” Ethan said grimly, and Walker began typing. “Took down all of Luis’s information, told Luis he could protect him—hide him—until the trial. He and Luis set up a meeting, all cloak and dagger, back at Silver so Porter could nab the Bianchis red-handed.”

“The poor fucker,” Anson said, and Caelan nodded.

“Exactly,” Ethan agreed. “So, obviously, he goes in and the Bianchis are already waiting for him. On the spot, Carmen swears out a statement that Luis physically and sexually assaulted her, and the next thing he knows, Luis is the one in handcuffs, being led away.”

“Jesus,” Walker breathed, looking up from the tablet. “And Stella, what? Watched it happen?”

“She wasn’t there. But later, she testified in court that he’d confessed his crime to her.”

“You are fucking kidding me,” Walker said. “That traitorous bitch!”

“But I’m confused,” Caelan interjected, holding up a hand. “Why didn’t they kill Luis? I mean, we’re all glad that didn’t happen, of course, but… why frame him for something and put him in prison? Why keep him alive at all, when he could start talking at any time?”

“Well, two things. First, he couldn’t talk.” Ethan shook his head. “Remember that mother I mentioned, who owns the bodega?”

“Motherfucker,” Anson said.

“Uh huh. And as to why they didn’t kill him…” Ethan rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not wrapped around me. “Luis heard down the line that Stella negotiated this deal for him. She testified against him, got him put away, and came back into the family fold—no more talking about running away, no more dating men her brother didn’t approve of. And in exchange, Luis got sent away, but lived to tell the tale.”

Walker snorted. “Some bargain.”

“I dunno,” Anson shrugged. “Seems decent to me.”

“Might seem decent to anyone who hasn’t spent time in a cage,” Caelan said solemnly. “I don’t know if I’d consider it a good deal, myself.”

“But would Stella have known that?” Sabrina wanted to know. She looked at me for support. “I mean, your average person has no idea what it’s like in prison, right? They might think…”

“That they were doing someone a favor? Yeah,” I agreed. “I mean, where there’s life there’s hope. If Luis had died, we wouldn’t be hearing this now. I think it was a decent bargain.”

“And not necessarily easy on her part,” Xavier said thoughtfully. “To have to live on someone else’s sufferance is a kind of cage, too, isn’t it? Especially when that someone is Alberto Bianchi?”

“Spare me,” Walker retorted. “Poor little rich girl has to do what big brother wants. Boo hoo.” His tablet beeped, and he paused for a second. “Got him! Detective Wyatt Porter. Let’s see… from Cherry Township, New Jersey… age forty… tall, blonde, built like Caelan, if C-man were into performance enhancing drugs.”

Caelan shook his head, but Anson laughed softly.

“Oh, look. Lovely brownstone in Harlem.” Walker looked around the table. “That’s a chunk of change.”

“Depends how gentrified the neighborhood is,” Caelan allowed. “But yes, for a man living alone that’s quite a coup.”

Walker gave Caelan a fond look. “You know this dude’s on the take, and you still wanna give him the benefit of the doubt. You’re a funny guy, Caelan.”

“Just because a person is guilty of a crime, doesn’t mean that they’re a terrible human. Some are, maybe. But I think all of us know better than to see things like this in black and white.”

Caelan winked at me, and I burrowed more deeply into Ethan’s side. He was absolutely right. Ethan had grown up in a life where hustling was normal and expected behavior, and conning people successfully felt like winning. He’d never had any reason to challenge that assumption, until he’d met me. And I couldn’t judge him too harshly for the things he’d done before that.

“Anyway,” Walker said, typing again, “I’m gonna run this guy’s financials. If he spends too much money on gum and powdered donuts, I’m gonna know it. In the meantime, I can tell you which precinct he works out of. And… huh. He used to be in cyber-crimes but is now in sex-crimes.” He looked up. “You don’t know any more details on the guy who was killed at Silver, Ethan?”

Ethan shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “Sorry, no. You seeing a connection?”

“Could be nothing.” Walker frowned. “This detective is connected to the Bianchis, right? The guy Luis saw murdered was involved in some online scheme, and the detective used to work in cyber-crimes. It’s a lot of circumstantial stuff, but it’s making me think. You know my friend LC is dead. That’s, uh… that’s why I’m here.” He raised a hand, indicating the Masters’ apartment, his tie to the group. “It was a suicide. Self-inflicted gunshot wound. LC had PTSD after his tour, so it sucked but it… fit, I guess? I never got how it was connected to the rest of you, the people you’d lost.”

Caelan’s eyes narrowed. “And now you think it might be?”

“No clue. I mean, LC was not the only hacker on the planet, but…”

“But sometimes you just get a feeling,” I interrupted, remembering how I’d felt the first day I’d arrive at this penthouse. “Sometimes you just know.”

Walker nodded. “Exactly, yeah.”

“Follow it up,” Xavier instructed. “If Ethan says Luis doesn’t have any more information on the man who was killed, maybe you can look through Detective Porter’s records. Maybe check out the cases he closed. Or maybe we can ask Ms. Bianchi herself.”

Walker scowled. “You’re seriously going to contact her? Dude, with what we’ve found out already, I can hack the system and get at least grounds for a mistrial for Pederson and exonerate Luis. They can’t have physical evidence, since he didn’t do it.”

“I’m with you,” Ethan said. “I wanna bust his ass out of that place today.” He was vibrating with tension beside me, and I laid a comforting hand on his thigh.

“Of course we should talk to her,” Xavier said, tugging down the cuff of his Oxford shirt. “Luis indicated that she could confirm all of this information he provided, and I think we’d be fools not to see what else she knows.”

“Plus, you know, not to talk shit about Luis,” Caelan interrupted, giving Ethan an apologetic glance, “but I’ve been in prison, man. Everybody and their brother has got a sob story. A little independent confirmation before we go around hacking law enforcement systems and getting convicted felons out of prison would go a long way toward helping me sleep at night. You know?”

Ethan nodded once, tightly. I got the sense that if anyone else had made the suggestion, he would have balked, but Caelan’s words weren’t taken lightly.

“It’s settled then,” Xavier said. “I’ll call Bianchi and set up the date.”

“You have Stella’s number?” I asked.

“No, I have her brother’s number,” he corrected. “I’m pretty sure that’s how this game is played. I’ll need to ask her brother for permission before I take her out.”

Walker made a disgusted noise. “Pampered princesses need to be protected, after all.”

Sabrina and I swapped pitying glances. The guys might not get it, but the situation sounded less like her being protected and more like her being contained. It was every bit as much of a prison as what Caelan had lived through, and Ethan too. Except Stella had no end date for her sentence, no hope of ever tasting freedom again.

“I want to be there when you talk to her,” Ethan said. “When you bring her back here.”

“A con-man assistant who already knows Ms. Bianchi? No. She’d run a mile.” Xavier pushed himself to his feet, and I was wildly glad for one brief second that he wasn’t in favor of Ethan’s participation. I wanted Ethan out of this as much as possible.

“I know all the players in this game,” Ethan argued. “I’ll let you take the lead, but I want to be involved.”

“Not necessary,” Xavier said, waving a dismissive hand. “After I talk to Alberto and make arrangements, Walker will come with me as my driver and provide protection. He can also jam the signal on any tracking devices Ms. Bianchi might have on her person.” He gave Walker a significant glance, and Walker nodded.

“I’ll source the equipment we need,” he confirmed.

“Good.” Xavier looked at Ethan again. “Alberto Bianchi doesn’t know that I see him as anything but a prosperous businessman, and neither does his sister. Once I get her out of their house and into our car, I’ll plan to bring her back here and have a friendly conversation. I’ll let you know if you’re needed.”

Xavier began to walk toward the kitchen door, but Ethan stopped him with a restraining hand on his forearm. “I’m serious, X. Don’t cut me out on this one,” he said solemnly. “I need to see this through. For Eli. For myself.”

Xavier hesitated, staring into Ethan’s eyes before flicking a glance at me. I’m not sure what was on my face, but it seemed to decide the matter for him. “Fine,” he said. “Alright. I’ll let you know how my conversation goes and when I can arrange a time to take Ms. Bianchi out.”

Ethan nodded and let go. He took a deep breath and turned to me, as the others got up and began clearing the table, like Xavier’s departure had been a silent signal that the meal was over. “I know you probably don’t get why I need to be involved…”

“You’re wrong,” I told him. “I do get it. I wish it were different, but I get it. You have a job to do, and someone is counting on you. It’s the same reason I’m going to keep representing Max Pederson, even though it’s dangerous.”

I’d actually been anticipating this conversation since witnessing Ethan’s possessive, dominant display yesterday at the prison, and again last night. There were many, many ways in which I would yield to Ethan—and enjoy the fuck out of doing so—but this wasn’t one.

His eyes narrowed. “And if I forbid it?”

I swallowed, glancing around and making sure that no one was taking notice of us, before looking deep into those summer blue eyes. “You wouldn’t,” I said with utter confidence. “Because you want me to be happy, and you know that I can’t be locked in a cage any more than you can.”

He sighed. “If you take a single unnecessary risk…”

“I know,” I said seriously, though I’m pretty sure my eyes were sparking with the memory of the demonstration he’d given me last night. “I know exactly what you’ll do.”

“I think I’ll feel better if I remind you,” he said, leaning over to nip at the junction of my shoulder and neck. He breathed the words into my skin. “In fact, I think we both will.”

I tried to hide my smile with a stern frown. “I thought you wanted me to rest today?” I reminded him. “Recuperate.”

“Absolutely,” he whispered. “In fact, my plan is to get you into our bed, and if you so much as move a muscle, I’ll spank you.”

“And do you plan to be in the bed with me?” I demanded. I could just imagine those roving hands, that dangerous mouth, making it nearly impossible for me to keep still and then exacting a punishment when I failed to comply. The man was fucking devious, and I loved it.

So I wasn’t prepared when he dropped his teasing tone entirely and fixed his gaze on mine. “Haven,” he said softly. “From now on wherever you are is where I plan to be.”