Without discussing it, neither of us went to tell Sophie she had a visitor. We waited as a sleek, low-slung sports car came through the inner gates and parked in front of the doors. A tall, slender man with dark hair and olive skin unfolded himself from the car.

He was dressed with elegant precision, his suit custom tailored, his shoes shined to a high polish, not a hair out of place. With a look of cold calculation, he scanned the courtyard before he climbed the steps to the front door.

Aiden opened the door at the first knock. I looked into the icy depths of the man's dark eyes, and a chill ran down my spine. I'd seen that look before. This was a man devoid of compassion. Of pity. A man without the capacity for love or simple human kindness. This was a man who knew only greed and destruction.

He opened his mouth and said, “I'm Anthony Armstrong. I'm here to get my wife.”

From behind me, I heard a soft intake of breath. “Anthony?”

Fuck. Sophie. I didn't want her anywhere near this guy. The second I'd realized who he was, it took everything I had not to beat the life out of him.

I loved Sophie with every breath in my body, and this man had made her life a misery. He’d tried to destroy her. She'd been afraid he'd kill her. My muscles locked down, as a fine, almost imperceptible tremble shook me from head to toe. I would not lose my temper. I would control my anger, my rage.

Hurting Anthony would not help Sophie. Not in that moment. She needed me to think. She needed me to hold it together. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, forcing my emotions to settle before I looked at Sophie.

She stood beside Aiden and me, her eyes wide with shock, skin pale. As I watched, she started to shake. Ignoring Anthony, I stepped back and went to her side, pulling her into my arms and wrapping her in a tight hold. She pressed her cheek to my chest, still staring at Anthony with those wide, terrified eyes.

In a soft tone that pretended to soothe, Anthony said, “Sophie, darling, I know this is a shock. If we could go somewhere to talk… Everything is over now, and you can come home.”

Aiden shifted to block Anthony's entrance to the house. “I'm afraid I can't invite you in. Sophie isn't going anywhere. Since we were all under the impression that you died in a car accident two years ago, we can start with you explaining your presence on my doorstep.”

“You're not going to let me in the house?” Anthony asked, incredulous.

I got the impression people rarely told him no. He'd met his match in Aiden. I tightened my arms around Sophie. Everything inside me wanted to deal with the vermin on our doorstep, but I wouldn't leave Sophie alone with Anthony so close. Aiden didn't need my help. Sophie did.

“No,” Aiden said, “I’m not. Explain yourself, or get off my property.”

“Sophie, they wouldn't let me tell you,” he said smoothly, his eyebrows coming together in a frown as he took in his wife's face pressed to my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

Forcing the expression from his face, he gave her a coldly gentle smile and went on, “I've been in protective custody. I testified against my former employers, and the prosecutor wanted me off the street until the case was closed.”

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

“I know, darling, I know it was hard, and I'm so sorry I hurt you like that. Testifying was dangerous, and it seemed safer for everyone if I appeared to be dead. Telling you would've put you at risk.”

“That case ended over six months ago,” I said. “Where have you been since then?”

Hot rage flared in Anthony's eyes as he met my gaze, then disappeared so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it. In the same cool, gentle tone he said to Sophie, “We wanted to make sure the dust had settled before I came back to life.”

“Who is we?” I asked, suspicious. “You and the prosecutor? You and the US Marshals service? I assume that's who had you in protective custody.”

“Of course,” Anthony said. Turning his attention back to Sophie, “You should never have had to go back to work, sweetheart. Damien was supposed to see that you were provided for. Taken care of. He's been dealt with, and now it's time for you to pack your things and come home.”

At those words, Sophie shook harder, her breath tight and short. Warm tears soaked through the front of my shirt, and I realized she was crying. I'd seen her wake from nightmares about this man, seen the fear his memory evoked, but I don't think I truly understood how bad things had been until I felt her fall apart in my arms.

“Sophie isn't going anywhere with you,” I said, slowly and deliberately. “Sophie's home is here. With me. We are her family. She's getting a restraining order, and then she's filing for divorce. You can contact her through our lawyers. Aiden will get you the information.”

I didn't wait for Anthony's response. I swung Sophie into my arms and carried her down the hall to the library where she and Amelia had been reading before Anthony arrived. Amelia looked up in surprise, then shock, when she saw Sophie in my arms and heard the sounds of her quiet weeping.

“Tell Mrs. W we need a tea tray,” I said, “Tell her to make it strong and sweet.” Amelia hesitated, clearly wanting to ask what was wrong. “Now, Amelia,” I said, working to keep my voice gentle.

With a worried glance at Sophie, Amelia left. Sophie raised her head off my chest and tried to climb out of my arms. I sat on the couch and pulled her closer, stroking her hair back from her tear stained face.

“Angel, it's okay. He's not going to get to you. You never have to see him again. You're safe from him, I promise.”

She drew in a shuddering breath and said, “I have to leave. He's going to come back, and I have to leave. I can't stay, I can't let you protect me like this. I can't, I can’t—”

“Shhh, Angel. It's going to be okay; I'm not going to let anything happen to you.”

“You deserve better than this. Better than me. I stayed with him. I let him hurt me. I'm not strong enough for this. For you.”

“Sophie, no.” It was like she didn't hear me. She closed her eyes and sobbed so hard her body shook with it. It felt like she cried for hours. Amelia returned with the tea tray and waited patiently until Sophie finally ran out of tears.

I hadn’t wanted to leave her while she was crying, but I needed to talk to Aiden. I needed to make sure Anthony Armstrong was gone. I settled Sophie into the couch and stood. Crouching in front of her, I wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs and tried to get her to meet my eyes. Her green gaze was dull and fixed on the carpet.

“I need to go talk to Aiden,” I said, softly. “We won't let him near you again, do you understand?”

All I got was a tiny nod. I kissed her gently and straightened. Amelia slid beside her and pulled Sophie close, tucking Sophie's head against her shoulder and stroking her arm.

“I won't be long,” I promised and slipped from the room.