Page 75 of Hide Little Traitor

“Because I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I were responsible for my only family being hurt. It was my own selfish need to not be at fault that made me obsess over it for years,” I admit. “And by the time I had proof, it was too late.

“Salvatore had every man that worked for him tracking me, he’d turned you and your brother against me, and Caroline was trapped in that house with a man she didn’t love. In that time, I’d built Hawk Security and there was nothing left for me in Miami. I cut ties with everyone, starting a new life and trying my hardest not to look back.”

“Until Chloe called you.”

I shake my head. “I came back to Miami one other time, for your mom’s funeral. It didn’t matter how much danger it put me in, I couldn’t miss it. I already held so much guilt about missing those years of her life, not being there for her while she recovered and while she navigated her new life. I didn’t help her escape a marriage she didn’t want to be in anymore. And I didn’t save you boys from your father. I failed her over and over again, but I refused to miss saying goodbye.”

His cold eyes flick to me for the first time, searching for insincerity he won’t find. I’ll never regret anything the way I regret not doing more for my best friend.

“When Chloe called, she sounded so scared. So broken. I dropped everything and flew to Miami to pick her up, because even if you boys had turned on her, I knew Caroline would want me to take care of her.”

He swallows heavily, forcing his attention back to the line of plush green in front of us. “You think I’m just going to believe everything you say?”

“No,” I reply. “But maybe you should think about all the lies Salvatore has told you and your brother over the years. How he framed Chloe as a traitor when she was a scared eighteen-year-old carrying his grandchild. And perhaps you should consider the only person that benefited from your mother’s accident.”

I turn on my heel before he can respond. All I can do is plant the seed. He has to do the rest.

I’ve never been more convinced Salvatore orchestrated the accident, including using me as the perfect scapegoat.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHLOE

NOW

Iblink my eyes open and find Ronan staring down at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Rustling behind me draws my attention to Ryker, who sips at a cup of coffee, his amber eyes watching me intently.

“Are you both watching me sleep?” I yawn.

“Sure were, Siren.” He reaches behind him as I sit up, tugging the sheets up to cover myself. I may have had them both inside me last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m not self-conscious sitting between two men that look like they live at the gym.

Ryker hands me a mug, and I can smell the sugar among the bitterness.

I take a long sip and groan. Just as I suspected. Perfect.

“I don’t know how you drink that with so much sugar. There comes a point when it’s no longer coffee, and that surpassed the point three teaspoons ago.”

“She’s always had it the same,” Ronan tells him. “Her Starbucks order is just as horrifying.”

“Oh, I know. I can’t bring myself to say it. I have to order on the app and then wear a ball cap and glasses when I pick it up so no one thinks I’m the one drinking that monstrosity.” He shivers dramatically.

“Can you two stop picking on my taste in coffee?” I snap, but the smile that I can’t manage to wipe from my face gives me away.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this carefree. This safe.

This happy.

“Not until you start drinking it properly.” Ryker chuckles.

I roll my eyes but don’t bother arguing. It’s two against one, and I don’t necessarily disagree with them. By most people’s standards, my coffee order is ridiculous.

But I like what I like, and I’m not willing to give it up.

“Are the others up?”

“Yep. Grumpy and Asshole are outside having a deep and meaningful talk, the last I checked.”