A secret that would put both Lachlan and their daughter in the crosshairs of enemies far more dangerous than Alejandro could ever be.
Her amnesia had freed her to have the life she dreamed of—her mind smothering her past, refusing to let it surface. It was the only way she could have the life she wanted. A life with Lachlan and Paloma, happy and loved.
But that wasn't an option anymore. Not if she wanted to keep them safe and alive, protected from this world that would destroy them … because of her.
She refused to subject them to tragedy. She couldn’t be selfish now that she had her memories back. Knew the truth of what a life with her entailed. The only way she could guarantee their safety was by cutting all ties with them, even if doing that would rip her heart to shreds.
She placed her palm against Lachlan's chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath her touch. Infusing her voice with a certainty she didn't feel, she said, “Your daughter needs you. Go home.”
Something in her expression must have reached him because his resistance faltered. "Britt?—"
She leaned in, pressing her lips gently to his. The kiss was brief but filled with every ounce of love she felt for him. When she pulled back, she whispered, “If you love me, you’ll do this … for me.” She looked at Miquel. “Take him.”
Miquel nodded, gesturing to two of his men. They gripped Lachlan’s arms. He shook them off, his eyes never leaving Britt's face.
"Don't do this," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Whatever you're not telling me—whatever you think you need to protect me from—we can face it together."
"Not this time," she replied, forcing herself to maintain eye contact even as her heart shattered.
The men grabbed him again, more forcefully this time. Lachlan fought against their grip, his gaze never wavering from hers.
“This isn’t over. We are not over,” he shouted as they dragged him toward the door. "Do you hear me, Britt? I will find you!"
She didn't respond, couldn't trust her voice not to break. Instead, she watched as the man she loved was pulled away from her, his struggles growing more desperate as the distance between them increased.
At the doorway, he managed to break free for just a moment. "I love you," he called before they subdued him again, disappearing down the corridor.
The heavy metal door slammed shut with finality, leaving Britt alone with Alejandro and what remained of his men. The room felt suddenly colder, emptier without Lachlan's presence.
She inhaled deeply, straightening her shoulders. When she turned to face Alejandro, her expression had transformed—gone was the woman who had knelt before Lachlan with tenderness. In her place stood Britt Freeman, daughter of Titus Freeman, born and raised in the merciless world of Quattro.
Alejandro studied her with newfound wariness as if seeing another side of her for the first time. “Are you going to?—”
“Yes,” she said, her voice hard as steel. “I am.”
Chapter 46
Britt swirled the tumbler of whisky, watching the amber liquid coat the sides of the clear glass. The same color as Lachlan’s eyes—smoky, smoldering, and sensual. She inhaled the scent, then took a long sip. This was his preferred brand. A local favorite that wasn’t very popular outside the borders of Scotland. A way for her to soothe the longing and loneliness warring within her for pushing him away. Even if it was for his own good.
The gentle ocean breeze wafted through the open accordion doors of the mansion, framing a multi-million dollar pristine ocean view designed to impress. Britt lay on a chaise lounge, staring at the postcard-perfect view. Tucked away in The Bluffs, the crown jewel of St. Basil’s affluent neighborhoods, the home was a sprawling estate protected by state-of-the-art motion sensors, thermal cameras, and a rotating contingent of armed guards. This particular safe house had always been her father's favorite retreat—a lush tropical hideaway where business and pleasure blended seamlessly in surroundings of obscene luxury.
The heavy oak door groaned on its hinges, announcing a visitor. Alejandro stepped through, closing it softly behind him. His footsteps echoed against the Italian marble floors. He was impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that hugged his broadshoulders, his olive skin immaculately dry despite the island heat permeating the room. He exuded every ounce of the dangerous magnetism that had propelled his strategic ascent to power as her father’s second-in-command. A beautiful specimen of a man, but he’d never won her heart. His devotion to her was his weakness. Not that loving a woman made a man weak. His inability to hide his weakness could be a detriment not just to him but to Quattro. The cartel her father built with his bare hands. Her legacy.
She placed the glass on the side table and gazed at him. “Did I pass all the tests?”
Alejandro chuckled. “What do you think?” He sat on the end of the chaise lounge, lifting her feet into his lap. His hands caressed and massaged her arches, his thumbs working the tension from her tired muscles with precision. “I didn’t have any doubts. Neither did Corey or Miquel. The moment you entered that room, we knew it was you.”
“But convincing the thousands in our organization wouldn’t be so simple. They don’t know me like the three of you do.” She reached for her glass, the whisky burning her throat as she swallowed. “And they were convinced I was dead because of the body you found. The one that had my DNA.”
A cloud of anger flashed across his face. “They made a fucking fool of me. When I find out who was behind it, I’ll kill them myself.”
“You’ll have to get in line behind me,” Britt said, and she meant it. Her chance at the life she wanted with Lachlan had been snatched from her on that fateful afternoon. She remembered it clearly. Paloma had been fussy all morning as they prepped for a day at the park. Britt had packed everything except her daughter’s favorite toy, a teddy bear called Mr. Bow. And Paloma wasted no time announcing her displeasure, cryingfor almost an hour after they arrived. Nothing they did was soothing her.
“It’ll only take ten minutes,” Britt said, kissing Paloma’s head and then Lachlan’s. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“It’s an unhealthy attachment, Britt. We shouldn’t encourage her,” Lachlan said, reaching for her with his free hand. “Stay and swing with us. I can hold both of you on my lap.” He winked. “And she’s not screaming anymore. Being at the park, feeling the wind on her face, is helping her forget about Mr. Bow.”
She stared at her baby girl, face red and coated with tears, exhausted from crying. She wasn’t close to being okay. Just the calm before the next crying fit.
