My sister never comes to my office. She hates the place. She considers it the Seventh Circle of Hell. And I don’t blame her. My father made her a prisoner of this place.

He chained us all to the family name and business. I’m just the only one who decided to stay. Did I ever have a choice but to become married to the business, to the life, though?

He started bringing me to the office when I was home from boarding school every summer. I even had my own briefcase, although, when I was younger, it was mostly stashed with Twizzlers.

Grace sits on the sofa next to her husband, Noah, and I realize she’s nervous about something. Or maybe excited. I haven’t mastered my sister’s tells yet. I need to work on that. Or even better, I could just ask, do that whole communication thing I’ve heard about.

“So, what brings you here?” I sit across from them, but I become distracted by thoughts of Gia. I can almost smell her sweet, but not too sweet, perfume, even though she hasn’t been here since Monday night.

I’ve been getting regular check-ins from one of Jessica’s men about her, and every time my phone beeps from a text, I’m worried he’s going to give me bad news.

Owen, whom Jessica tasked to be on the team, is a good friend of Noah’s. He was a Navy SEAL, too. Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone who works with Luke and Jessica are former military. Owen normally works down in Charleston, where he also owns a tavern, but he’s one of the best guys on Jessica’s payroll, so I requested that he fly up yesterday, since Luke is out of the country.

Thanks to one of Jessica’s contacts at TSA, she found out that Rory’s not in town, and his flight won’t get back until Friday. At least I know Gia has a few days to breathe before that asshole comes home.

But I need to focus on my sister right now—on the sudden paleness of her skin.

Noah wraps a hand around the back of his neck and eyes Grace.

Something is off with her.

“What’s up with all the extra security?” Noah asks when Grace still doesn’t speak.

Yeah, I need to talk to Noah about that, but I’d prefer to do that without my sister within earshot, especially since she looks—

Grace is on her feet before I can finish the thought, and she’s heaving into the trash bin by my desk.

Noah’s at her side, and he’s rubbing her back.

“You sick?” I go to the bar and grab a bottle of water and paper towel.

The color has returned to her face now. Actually, it’s more like a glow.

She wipes her mouth and tosses the towel in the trash. “Not sick in the normal sense of the word.” She takes a drink. “Sorry about your trash. Apparently, morning sickness is not always in the morning.”

Morning sickness? “You’re pregnant?”

Noah’s hand slides over her stomach.

“How? When?” I rush a hand through my hair, smiling. “I don’t need to know the how part. Sorry.”

She laughs.

I’m not good at this, but shit, I go up to her and pull her in for a hug. And then Noah and I do that one-armed manly kind of hug thing where it’s more like a good job kind of slap on the back.

“How far along?” I ask, once I’ve tied up the trash and given it to my admin, who deserves another bonus now.

“Four months.” She smiles and sits back down. “But there’s more.”

“What?” I ask, nervous.

“We’re having twins. Boys.” Noah grins. The man couldn’t look fucking happier, and I don’t blame him. He’s already a father from a previous marriage, a great one from what I hear, and he’s the kind of guy who could probably have ten kids and keep his sanity together.

How can I ever be a father after the role model I’ve had?

“But the doctors need to keep a close eye on me. I have placenta previa. They said it should correct itself, but I need to be extra cautious.”

“Placenta what?” I ask.

“It’s not a huge deal, but whenever there’s more than one baby, plus this issue—you gotta be more careful.”

“So what the hell are you even doing in my office right now? You should be in bed!” I snap, not meaning to, but I don’t want anything happening to her or the babies.

“I’m okay. I promise. I was hoping to tell Corbin, too, but he texted me that he’s in Vegas.” She frowns. “Another race?”

I want to lie because she doesn’t need the stress. “Yeah,” I finally admit.

“Oh. Well, I haven’t told Mom or Dad yet, and I, uh, don’t know when I will.” Her lips tighten. She didn’t invite our parents to her wedding since they were opposed to her even dating Noah. I can’t say I was exactly enthusiastic, either—but I was dead wrong about him.

I’m wondering, though, if Grace will let them know about her pregnancy.

Mom pops into New York every few months. She mostly stays in L.A. with her younger boyfriend since our parents split. And Dad’s in Paris with someone a third his age, the last time I heard. They still haven’t even gotten divorced. Maybe they won’t. Who knows? Who cares?

“I won’t say anything to anyone, but, do you mind if I have a word alone with Noah?” I ask.

She smiles. “I should freshen up, anyway.”

Noah squeezes her hand and she leaves the office, pulling the door closed behind her.

“So?” Noah tucks his hands into his pockets.

I go over to my desk and press my palms to it, trying to find the right words. “I need you to take Grace out of the city. And you should probably take Lily, too.” It’ll be tricky to work that out with his ex, but if something happened to his daughter because of what I’m planning to do, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He’s at my side before I know it, waiting for some kind of response, some sort of explanation that makes sense.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, but I don’t want to take any chances, especially with Grace pregnant. You need to get her to some safe place with a good doctor to keep an eye on her.”

“Slow down a second.” His hands are raised in the air between us, his eyes narrowing.

I arch my shoulders back for a moment. “I pissed off an Irish mobster last week, and I’m about to make shit worse,” I say this as casually as I can without alarming him, but I’m pretty sure there’s no way to sugarcoat my words.

“Are you kidding?” He shakes his head and drags in a deep breath.

“Have I ever been one to make jokes?”

“Right.” He grips the bridge of his nose, and my eye catches the titanium band on his finger.

“I have Jessica and Owen helping me out, but I’d feel better knowing that Grace isn’t in the city in case anything backfires.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Probably better if you don’t know.”

“You need backup?”

I know he’s capable, but . . . “I’d rather know you’re protecting Grace and Lily.”

He nods. “I’ve gotta figure out how to get them out of here without scaring Grace.”

I hate this. I hate that I’m putting him in this situation, but what choice do I have? “I’m sorry, man.”

“Yeah, okay. Keep me updated.” A quick smile flashes across his face. “And try not to die. Grace wouldn’t like that.”

“Will do.”

---

“We have everything in place, but who knows how long this will all take to go down. It’s a little different from our normal jobs,” Jessica says.

Kidnappings. Protection. Even terrorism. Why not add organized crime to the résumé?

“Still hard for me to believe all of this started because you went to Jerry’s bachelor party.” She cringes. “The idea of Jerry and some stripper . . . ugh.”

Jessica is friends with Jerry’s fiancée, so I guess I can’t blame her for getting offended.

“This kind of stuff happens at bachelor parties.” I smile. “What? Women don’t get stripteased?”

“No comment.” She chuckles. “But, I don’t know. Jerry is such a straight-edge good guy. Can’t picture it at all.”

“Yeah, well, how about we discuss what you’ve found out since we last talked, instead.”

“Got it, boss man.” She winks at me before holding the tablet up between us.

A picture of Richard McCullen, Rory’s father, appears on the screen. Long silver hair, tied back, green eyes like Rory’s, and a hardness to his face—he’s got the look of a man you don’t fuck around with, but he’s not in power now, so he’s the least of my concerns.

“My guy at the bureau said someone gave them a goldmine of dirt on Richard. Too bad they didn’t manage to lock Rory up, too.”

“You were at the Feds’ office?”

She lifts a shoulder and flips her blonde ponytail to her back, batting her eyes for dramatic flair. “What can I say? I can charm myself into any place.”

She probably can, too. She’s gorgeous and one of the smartest women I’ve met in my life. Right now, I’m thankful her business also handles cases like this one.

“I take it we don’t know who snitched on Richard?”

“I checked the witness list from the trial. Whatever the Feds got didn’t come from any of them. I’m sure they’d be at the bottom of the Hudson if it did, anyway.”

“True.”

“I thought you’d find this interesting, though.” Jessica brings up another image. “This is from last night.”

I zoom in, trying to grasp what I’m seeing. “What the hell is Mya doing with Gia?”

“Figured that was her based on your description.” Gia and Mya are standing side by side in front of what looks like art easels.

“Where was it taken?”

“Every Tuesday and Thursday, there are art classes at a school in Brooklyn. It looks like Mya and Gia are enrolled. Mya was a late add. Seven weeks ago.”

“Yeah, that can’t be a coincidence.” I shake my head.

“That’s about the same time Richard got locked up, too.”

“I’d better talk to her father again. Mya’s definitely going to get caught in the crossfire, otherwise.” It’s hard for me to believe Gia would give information to Mya, though—or to let anyone help her if that’s what she’s doing.

“You sure you want to do all of this for some woman you don’t even know?”

“And are you really asking me that? Isn’t this what you do—save people?”

“I do, but you . . . well, this is kind of unexpected.”

“I’ve made up my mind.”

She lifts her shoulders. “Okay, then.”

Knowing Jessica, she won’t press for more, which is something else I like about her. “I talked to Noah, by the way. He’s taking Grace and Lily out of the city.”

“Good. If anything happens to them—”

“You’ll kill me. I know.”

She nods. “So, you ready for tonight?”

I stand and rub my palms down my face. Memories of my past are clawing to the surface. “She’s going to say no again. She’ll probably shoot me herself, but I’m going to try. We have a narrow window before Rory is back.”

“Okay. My team will be in place if you need an assist.”

I’d like to toss Gia over my shoulder and make her leave with me, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. “Anything on her father yet? Or a last name on her?”

“Not yet. The name she used to register for the art class was fake.”

“Yeah, okay. I figured.”

Five minutes after she leaves, the doorbell rings.

I check the peephole.

This isn’t the best timing, but Lydia’s on the cleared security list, so I’m not surprised she managed to get up here without my being notified.

I open the door and lean against the interior of the frame.

Her lips twist into a seductive smile as her green eyes land on mine. “I thought I’d surprise you.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pair of fuzzy leopard handcuffs.

A week ago, my balls would have instantly tightened, my cock stiffening . . .

But not today.

“You going to let me in?” She dangles the cuffs. “I’m cold. I don’t have anything on under this jacket,” she says in a soft voice.

This is typical of Lydia. Showing up like this. I think she watches too many chick flicks; otherwise, where does she get these cliché ideas?

I haven’t had sex in a week. A week isn’t long to most people, but I don’t usually go more than a few days.

This can’t happen, though.

“I’m sorry. Not a good time.”

“Oh.” She swallows, her cheeks turning rosy, and she shoves the cuffs into her coat pocket. “Is someone here?” She takes a step back. “I’m so sorry. I should have called first.”

And this is why I like her. She isn’t going to go batshit crazy on me. She won’t act jealous. She won’t question me.

“Sorry,” I say again, allowing her to hang onto her foregone conclusions.

She takes a step forward and presses up on her toes to kiss my lips.

“Good night.”

“Call me when you’re free.” She smiles and leaves, and I wonder if I’m making a mistake.

Being with Lydia is easy. It’s safe for my walls. Working my ass off at the office and screwing women with zero emotion is what I know how to do best.

Why complicate shit?

But it doesn’t look like I have a choice. I want a woman who’s probably as untouchable as Rory McCullen. And even though I can’t have her, I’ll do my best to make damn sure he can’t, either.