Matteo spent the next hour and a half exploring the house and getting a mental map of the premises. There were fourteen rooms downstairs and eight bedrooms upstairs, each with their own bathroom and most with their own fireplace. The third floor was a combination of storage space and what seemed to be quarters for the staff.

He’d have to get a list of everyone who worked here for Logan to research.

He checked out the security system inside the residence, from cameras and motion sensors to contact alarms on the windows and doors.

An hour in, he found what he was looking for. There, on the contact for a side entrance to the house, was a thin piece of metal.

“Bingo.”

If this door was opened, the metal would make it seem like the contact was still attached. Whomever had gotten into the baby’s room had most likely come in through this door.

He moved into the motion sensor hidden in a corner of the room, suspecting that it, too, had been tampered with. He opened up the back of the unit with his Swiss Army knife. Sure enough, the wires inside the motion sensor had been cut.

He made his way to Nico’s room, stopping to check each piece of the security system in between. A clear path had been created from the point of entry to the crib.

Whomever was working inside the house knew exactly where the intruder was headed.

He needed to find out where the main security system was located and check out the circumstances of the missing surveillance tapes.

The security advisor had said the staff who could have been responsible for the security breach had been dismissed, but the existence of a mole meant true security was nothing but a farce.

Still, he would use those names as a starting point.

He frowned. The solitary nature of this assignment meant he must detail without his greatest weapon — the other members of HERO Force. They were a team, and a damn good one. It would be a challenge to protect Grace without them.

His mind wandered back to her phone call.

You expect this man to share my room with me? Share my bed?

He couldn’t help but wonder if that was really what would happen. He could still taste her on his lips, feel the softness of her cheek beneath his fingertips. What the hell had gotten into him? He barely knew her. But she was so damn vulnerable with that hard shell and soft interior, the combination making him admire her and want to make it better at the same time.

Fuck.

He was already in up to his knees and he had to get terra firma beneath his feet before he fell right in. He forced his attention back to the task at hand. The security system needed some serious upgrades before he was confident in its ability to protect anyone. He took out his phone and called the general, explaining in detail what he wanted.

He’d just hung up when something odd caught his attention. There in the fold of the sitting room drapes was something that didn’t belong. He pulled down the curtain rod and picked out a small electronic device.

A bug.

Someone had wiretapped this room.

He looked around. Out of all the rooms he’d explored so far, this one seemed no more notable than the others. If it was bugged, there was a good chance they all were. He carefully put the listening device back where he’d found it before going in search of Vasile.

He found him in his study.

“You’re settled in, I assume?” asked the president.

Matteo took a seat. “I am.”

The older man nodded sagely. “I’m sure you were surprised to learn where you’d be sleeping.”

He seemed to be fishing, looking for a reaction, and Matteo kept his face carefully blank. “A bit.”

“Thirty-two people work in this household. That number does not include my office staff, nor the many people who come in and out of this building on a regular basis. I need your marriage to my daughter to appear sincere on every level.”

“I understand.”

“She does not. She can be difficult, as you may have already surmised. She was not happy she had to marry, but she does understand it is necessary.”

One question was already lingering in Matteo’s mind. “Then why not have her marry the baby’s father?”

“I can only assume he is no longer in her life, but I’m not sure of that. She won’t tell me who he is.”

“I’m sure she will tell you in her own time.”

“Do you have children, Mr. Cruz?”

“Matteo. No.”

The older man leaned forward on his desk, holding his hands. “Lenore and Grace were inseparable.”

“Lenore?”

“My wife. She passed away several years ago. While Grace and I have never been close, she now seems to hold me in contempt, as if losing her mother was somehow my fault. I daresay she would sooner die than reveal her heart to me.”

The sadness in the old man’s eyes touched Matteo. He hoped to have kids of his own one day and could not imagine such a bad relationship with one of his own children.

“But she might tell you,” Vasile said. The stare he gave Matteo made his expectations crystal clear.

You are nothing more than a well-paid spy.

“Sir, if you had hired me to be your daughter’s bodyguard, I would be liable to you. Likewise, if you hired me to be your advisor or a valet or the head of the Armed Forces, I would be liable to you. But you hired me to be your daughter’s husband. My loyalty lies with Grace.”

“It is not a real marriage in any way. You are no more than an actor, and I, the producer.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Then I suggest you change your thinking, or I will get HERO Force on the line and clarify your responsibilities.”

Matteo sat forward in his chair. “Don’t you see what you’re doing to her?”

“Rubbish. I don’t need to listen to advice from my staff.”

“She’s just had a baby. She’s tired and overwhelmed and stressed. You asked her to marry a stranger and she did that for you. Then you insisted she share her private space with me and you shamed her when she objected. Now you want to make sure she doesn’t have a confidant in me. And you wonder why she doesn’t trust you?”

Vasile stood up, his height a near-perfect match for Matteo’s. “You will be replaced. I will call Mr. Wilson and tell him your services are no longer required.”

“The ceremony is done. There will be no replacement. Grace is my wife.” The grandfather clock on the wall struck seven. “Time for the reception, unless you’d like to go out there and explain to them why your daughter’s new husband won’t be attending?”

The two faced off for several moments.

The phone on Vasile’s desk rang and he picked it up. “Yes?” he snapped.

The color seemed to drain from Vasile’s face.

“When?” he asked, then he was quiet, listening. “Get Talia in here.” He hung up the receiver and looked back at Matteo.

“They just found a bomb at a baseball game. More than five hundred people in the stands, not counting the players. They are sending the bomb squad to diffuse it.” He leaned back in his chair. “This isn’t the first time—”

Matteo held up his hand to stop Vasile from talking, then held a finger to his lips to warn him to be quiet. He picked up a pen from the president’s desk and wrote on a small pad. THE ROOM IS BUGGED.

Vasile furrowed his brow and raised sharp eyes back to Matteo’s.

“I’d like you to show me around the grounds if you have time,” said Matteo.

“I suppose I can do that.”