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More typing comes through the speaker. “And you trust him.”

Nash’s expression loses some of its amusement. “With my life.”

Ronan is quiet again before returning to the reason he called. “The messages are going to take longer. I’m working from what Nash recovered, and I want to make sure the dates and account information line up before we use any of it.”

Nash turns his laptop toward him and opens another file while he listens. “Zee’s staying on Daniela. If she disappeared around the time Alina started using her identity, he’s going back through the months before that to see who was around her. He’s doing the same thing with Dare instead of trying to identify him from the burner number.”

“Send me anything he finds,” Ronan says. “I’ll compare it against travel records, financial activity and whatever surveillance I can pull. If Dare has been with Alina as long as those messages suggest, they’ve crossed paths somewhere that gives us more than a name on a burner phone.”

Now Ronan and Zee have two directions to work from instead of trying to identify Dare from nothing, and with Saturday getting closer, we need every advantage we can get.

Ronan moves on to the gala. Alina’s reservation hasn’t changed, and there’s no indication she plans to stay away. As far as she knows, I’ll be there Saturday night exactly as planned.

Nash closes one of the files on his laptop. “If she spent years getting close to you because she thought you were her way into Maria’s money, she’s already pissed that you ended things because of me. Then we walk into that gala together as a couple.” He looks over at me. “I don’t think she’s going to take that well.”

“You stay close to me Saturday. I’m not keeping you home when Alina and Dare already know enough about you to find you somewhere else, but Taylor is running security. If he tells us to move, we move. Neither of us goes after Alina or Dare alone.”

Nash nods. “I’m good with that. I have no interest in wandering around a hotel looking for either of them when we already know they’re expecting us. We go in, let them think the night is going the way they planned, and see what they do.”

I still don’t like putting Nash in the same room with Alina when she’s been discussing him with a man we can’t identify, but keeping him away from the gala won’t make him safer. She knows where he works, where he lived, and what he means to me. Saturday night, Taylor will have security in place, and the rest of the family will be there with us. Nash won’t be out of my sight long enough for either of them to get near him without someone seeing it.

Nash reaches across the island and rests his hand over mine. I turn my hand beneath his and lace our fingers together while Ronan goes over what he still needs to verify. Every instinct I have tells me to keep Nash as far away from Alina as possible, but we’ve already fought over me making those decisions for him. I can protect him without taking away his choices.

By the time the call ends, breakfast has gone cold, and Nash’s laptop is still open between us. I take our plates to the microwave while Nash stays at the island, already sending Zee another message.

“Food first,” I tell him.

He looks up. “You realize there are people trying to kill you, right?”

“And they’ll still be trying after you eat.” He closes the laptop, but his phone immediately appears in his hand. “Nash.”

“Fine.” He puts it facedown on the island. “Bossy.”

“You like me bossy.”

His mouth curves as I set his plate in front of him. “Different circumstances, Daddy.”

I shake my head and sit beside him. Saturday will come soon enough.

Chapter 36 Nash

By the time we get back to Duncan’s penthouse that evening, Ronan and Zee have been digging for most of the day. We picked up dinner on the way home, and I’m unpacking the containers on the kitchen island when Duncan’s phone rings. He checks the screen before answering and sets it between us on speaker.

“What did you find?”

“The attorneys sent me the complete complaints this afternoon,” Ronan says. “I went through the dates and locations the women provided and compared them against your travel records, corporate calendar, and security records. Several of the timelines are impossible. You weren’t even in the country when three of the incidents supposedly happened.”

I stop opening the containers and look across the island at Duncan. His expression doesn’t change. Mine probably does.

Ronan continues. “The other complaints have problems too. The dates don’t match your schedule, and enough records contradict the statements that two of the women have already changed parts of what they originally told investigators. Your attorneys have all of it.”

“That should take care of the complaints,” Duncan says. “What else did you find?”

“I started looking at the women themselves. We already knew someone offered to pay them, but what Colton found in their emails isn’t something the attorneys can use without explaining where it came from. I needed financial records they could get legally once they knew where to look.”

Duncan reaches for his phone. “And?”

“I found them. All four women received money shortly before they filed their complaints. Different amounts, different accounts, but I worked backward through the transfers, and they all lead to the same offshore account.”