LOGINWe settled on the couch, and I pulled her close, needing to understand what had shifted during that meeting.
"Tell me everything," I said.
Cat took a breath and laid it out: Viktor Volkov, the new Russian leader. More vicious. More vengeful. A direct threat not just to me, but to both families.
"Your father's not wrong," I said when she finished. "We do have a problem with loyalty. I've been discussing it with
JAMESONWe settled on the couch, and I pulled her close, needing to understand what had shifted during that meeting."Tell me everything," I said.Cat took a breath and laid it out: Viktor Volkov, the new Russian leader. More vicious. More vengeful. A direct threat not just to me, but to both families."Your father's not wrong," I said when she finished. "We do have a problem with loyalty. I've been discussing it with Declan. We've identified at least six men who were close to Isaac. Patrick Fitzpatrick is flagged as a priority suspect.""Fiona's father?" Cat's eyes narrowed."He has grievances," I confirmed. "And opportunity. Someone fed Isaac information about your schedule that day, Cat. Someone knew when you'd be on that road."She was quiet for a moment, processing."So we have external threats and internal ones," she said finally."And the two are
CATARINAI woke to sunlight streaming through the windows, warm and golden across the sheets.For a moment, I just lay there, disoriented. My body felt heavy, sore in ways I'd never experienced before. Not the sharp pain of broken ribs or the dull ache of bruised muscles—this was different.This was the kind of soreness that came from being thoroughly, completely claimed.I shifted slightly and felt it—the tenderness between my thighs, the pleasant ache in muscles I hadn't known could be sore.And I was naked.Completely, gloriously naked.Jameson's arm was draped across my waist, his body warm against my back, his breathing slow and even.I needed to move. Needed to get to the gym and start rebuilding my strength. Four weeks of limited movement had left me feeling weak, and I hated it.Carefully, I tried to slip out from under his arm.
CATARINAI woke to sunlight streaming through the windows, warm and golden across the sheets.For a moment, I just lay there, disoriented. My body felt heavy, sore in ways I'd never experienced before. Not the sharp pain of broken ribs or the dull ache of bruised muscles—this was different.This was the kind of soreness that came from being thoroughly, completely claimed.I shifted slightly and felt it—the tenderness between my thighs, the pleasant ache in muscles I hadn't known could be sore.And I was naked.Completely, gloriously naked.Jameson's arm was draped across my waist, his body warm against my back, his breathing slow and even.I needed to move. Needed to get to the gym and start rebuilding my strength. Four weeks of limited movement had left me feeling weak, and I hated it.Carefully, I tried to slip out from under his arm.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THE FIRST TIMEJAMESONI locked the door.The sound of the bolt sliding into place was final. Definitive. No more interruptions. No more waiting. No more excuses.Just us.Cat stood in the center of my bedroom, the midnight blue gown clinging to every curve, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. The moonlight streaming through the windows caught the fabric, making it shimmer like water.She was breathtaking.And she was mine."Four weeks, Cat," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "I've been waiting four weeks for this."She turned to face me fully, and I saw the nervousness in her eyes—but also the desire. The want."So have I," she said softly.I crossed the room slowly, giving her time to change her mind. Time to tell me to stop.She didn't.When I reached her, I cupped her face in
CATARINAFour weeks later, I sat in Dr. Sullivan's office watching him cut away the cast that had been my prison for what felt like an eternity."Almost there," he said, his voice cheerful. "How are the ribs feeling?""Better," I said. "Still tender, but manageable.""Good. That's what I like to hear." The cast saw whirred, and I felt the vibration through my arm. "You've been following the physical therapy exercises I gave you?""Every day."That was a lie. I'd been doing them twice a day, desperate to regain my strength as quickly as possible.The cast finally split open, and Dr. Sullivan carefully removed it. My arm looked pale and thin compared to my other one, the skin dry and flaky.But it was free.I flexed my fingers experimentally, then rotated my wrist. A dull ache, but nothing I couldn't handle."Take it easy for the first few days," Dr. Sullivan wa
CATARINAA week had passed since the coordinated strike, and I was starting to feel almost human again.Almost.My ribs still protested every movement, and the cast on my arm was a constant reminder of my limitations. But at least the swelling around my eye had gone down completely, and I could move without wanting to scream.Small victories.I stood in front of the mirror in Jameson's bedroom, staring at the bra in my good hand like it was a personal enemy.This should not be this difficult.I'd taken down armed men. I'd survived a car crash that should have killed me. I could handle a goddamn bra.I slipped my good arm through one strap, then tried to maneuver the other strap over my casted arm. The fabric twisted. The clasp dangled uselessly behind my back, just out of reach."Son of a bitch," I muttered, trying again.The bra slipped.I caught i
JAMESONThe warehouse on the south side smelled like rust, old oil, and fear.Perfect.Declan led me through the main floor to a back room where two men sat zip-tied to metal chairs. Both were bloodied—noses broken, lips split, eyes swollen. M
CATARINAA few days had passed, and I looked less like I'd been hit by a truck and more like I'd merely been in a serious bar fight.Progress.The swelling around my eyes had finally gone down enough that I could see out of both again—a small
JAMESONTrue to my word, I returned forty-five minutes later with two bags from Portillo's and a determination to finally have the conversation we'd been dancing around for weeks.Cat was exactly where I'd left her—propped up against the pillows in my be
CATARINATwo days later, the doctor finally cleared me for discharge."Strict bed rest," he said for what felt like the hundredth time. "No strenuous activity. Keep the arm elevated. Follow up in one week.""I understand," I said, resisting the urge







