Page 105 of Jay Bird

Jay Bird stared into the darkness while Willow’s breathing slowly evened out against his chest.

He had felt the exact second she had awakened. And he felt the way her entire body went rigid, followed by that sharp inhale and the instinctive panic she tried to control before realizing where she was. It had taken every ounce of discipline he possessed not to react, not to grab her or ask if she was okay. Instead, he had loosened his arm and given her room to move.

Jay Bird looked down at the woman sleeping against him.

He had faced gunfire without his pulse changing. He had jumped out of perfectly good aircraft, been dropped into places most sane people would spend their entire lives avoiding, and had stared down men who would kill him without hesitation.

But Willow voluntarily crawling into his arms had damn near wrecked him. Then she had asked him to hold her tighter, and he knew he would never forget the way she had trusted him enough to say it.

His gaze shifted toward the monitor on the nightstand, where Lily was sleeping again. His girls were safe. Lily was sleeping soundly in her new bed, and Willow was out cold against his chest.

Jay Bird stared at the ceiling, wondering how the hell his life had become this. He still didn’t understand it. But one thing was clear—he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Willow shifted in her sleep, moving closer to him. His arm tightened around her instinctively. It wasn’t enough to wake her, just enough to reassure some quiet, protective part of him that she was still there.

Jay Bird had never been a great sleeper, and his years in the Teams had made that worse. He could sleep anywhere when necessary, but at home he rarely stayed deeply asleep for long.

Tonight, he didn’t mind being awake.

The security system was armed, the house was quiet, and Lily and Willow were both safe. If either of them needed him, he was right there.

He pressed a soft kiss against Willow’s hair. Then he settled deeper into the pillow and listened to her breathe.

For the first time in twelve years, staying awake wasn’t about waiting for something bad to happen. It was about protecting something good.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chen zipped up his pants, ignoring the woman restrained in front of him. The room was dimly lit and quiet. The way he preferred it.

No windows, just concrete walls. No sounds from the house above reached this far below ground. The recessed lights cast a cold glow across the room, illuminating the drain set into the center of the floor, the stainless-steel sink along one wall, and the locked cabinet beside it. Everything was exactly where it belonged.

His gaze returned to the woman. Her wrists were secured above her head, her face streaked with tears. She trembled despite the coolness of the room, watching him with the wide, frightened eyes Chen had seen countless times before.

Usually, he enjoyed that look. Tonight, it only irritated him. Because she wasn’t the woman he wanted standing in front of him.

Almost two months had passed, and despite the money he had spent and the men he had sent searching, no one had found Willow. There had been no sightings. No financial trail. Her name hadn’t been used. Nothing that tied her to her old identity. It was as though she and the child had disappeared.

Chen’s jaw tightened.

He didn’t have concrete evidence, but he was certain that Willow was behind the raid on his estate in Morocco.

A few weeks ago, one of his contacts had warned him that American federal agents, working alongside international and Moroccan authorities, were preparing to raid his estate. The warning had given Chen just enough time to leave the country, taking only the people and possessions that mattered most.

By the time the FBI and the others descended on the mansion, Chen was already gone.

He had abandoned Morocco for Italy, relocating to another property he had kept carefully separated from his other operations. The villa was secluded, heavily guarded, and every bit as luxurious as the home he’d been forced to leave behind.

Willow hadn’t merely escaped him. She had disrupted his business, cost him men and money, and forced him from a home he considered his favorite.

His gaze drifted toward the wall where restraints hung neatly from individual hooks. Upstairs, his Italian villa was immaculate and elegant. Guests drank expensive liquor and admired the art on his walls, never imagining what lay beneath their feet.

Down here, appearances were unnecessary. Down here, people learned obedience.

Chen slowly walked toward the woman, and she immediately pulled against the restraints. She was weak after what she had already endured. But she had served her purpose.

“Please.” The word echoed through the room.

He stopped, his expression hardening.