Confusion and doubt warred on Alejandro's face. He looked back at Lachlan as if seeing him for the first time.
Britt stepped in front of Alejandro, blocking his path to Lachlan. "Lachlan is innocent. And I need you to let him go."
The power dynamics in the room shifted like sand beneath a wave. Every eye was fixed on her and Alejandro, waiting to see which way the current would flow.
Alejandro stepped back. "Britt, you’re gone for three years, then show up and expect me to just?—"
"Yes," she interrupted, her voice taking on the steel edge she'd inherited from her father. "I do expect exactly that. Because it's me asking." She turned to one of the men. "Diego, untie him."
Diego hesitated, looking to Alejandro for confirmation.
“Now!” Britt yelled.
Diego moved to Lachlan's chair, cutting through the zip ties with a pocket knife. Lachlan slumped forward as his arms were freed, muscles cramping after being restrained for so long.
Britt crossed to him, kneeling before his chair. Up close, his injuries weren’t as bad as she’d thought—split lip, bruises blooming across his torso, a cut on his eyebrow. She wiped a trickle of blood from his temple.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Lachlan leaned forward, his amber gaze sweeping over her face. His hand covered hers. “You remember everything, don’t ye?”
Britt nodded slowly.
“You remember me? Us?”
A smile curved at her lips. “Everything. Especially you.”
Lachlan closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath. When he opened them again, he said, “I knew you’d come back to me. Remember our life. Know for sure without any doubts what we mean to each other.”
“I have to get you out of here. It’s not safe for you.”
“Where are the guys? Why aren’t they with you?”
“They’re not here. I don’t have time to explain. I couldn't let them hurt you," she said, brushing her fingers against his jaw,the touch so gentle it was barely there. "Not because of me. Never because of me."
His hand found hers, gripping it with surprising strength. "We leave together or not at all."
The familiar stubborn set of his jaw made her heart clench. This was the man she loved—determined, loyal to a fault, refusing to bend even when beaten. And she was about to break his heart all over again.
"I need you to go home to Paloma," she said softly. "She needs you.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by refusal. "No. Whatever you're planning?—"
"This isn't negotiable." She straightened, turning to face the room again. One more minute, and he’d convince her that the impossible was possible. She’d risk everything, putting his life in danger. Their daughter’s life in danger. She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.
Eyes narrowed, she made eye contact with each of the men as she spoke. “Miquel will escort Lachlan back to St. Felipe. Personally. If he arrives with so much as a scratch more than he has now, I'll hold you responsible, Alejandro."
She didn't need to elaborate on what that meant. Everyone in the room knew what happened to those who crossed her.
Miquel stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “Of course, Britt."
"The hell with that," Lachlan growled, struggling to his feet. For a man who had been tortured, his strength was remarkable. He towered over Britt, swaying slightly but refusing to back down. "I'm not leaving you here."
The memory of their first meeting flashed through Britt's mind—his determination to save her from drowning, pull her from the depths of the sea despite her fighting against him. He'dbeen just as stubborn then, just as protective. It was one of the countless things she loved about him.
But not this time. This time, his stubbornness would get him killed.
Because now she remembered everything—including the truth she'd kept hidden from him. The secret she'd never shared, not even when they'd built a life together. Not even when they'd had Paloma.
