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Restrained but unmistakable.

If Sylvia decided to make an encore appearance, Addy wasn’t letting her get away again. But why would Sylvia sneak around in the middle of the night?

Peeling back one of the curtains, she tried to make out the shapes in the shadows. Clouds had long doused out any moonlight, making the outdoors seem as bleak as the house. But she couldn’t be imagining it—the outline of a white sedan in the driveway, headlights off. Her pulse catapulted. Someone was outside the house.

Kyle.

The thought—more hope than logic—had her running out of the kitchen and straight to the front door.

But as her fingers grazed the knob, common sense intervened.

What the hell was she going to do? Confront a trespasser by herself?

If only she could see better. Where was the porch light switch? Ah. Success.

The light that flooded the porch was bright as daylight, spotlighting the vehicle next to the one in the driveway.

She recognized the figure by the sedan instantly.

Roman.

Can’t be. Could it? What was Roman doing here? Had something bad happened?

Flipping the lock open, she hurried outside, her arms closing around his wiry frame. “What are you doing here? Is Netta—”

He pulled her in closer, then let go. “Netta’s good. I haven’t gotten a single SOS call from your parents. But Mandy and I are worried about you. You’ve been here an entire week.” His hands settled on her shoulders. “You can’t stay here indefinitely, Addy. Icefall’s a loose cannon.”

Didn’t she know it. “Any word on Kyle? Did you find the wife? It’s her new fiancé who put up the hundred thousand.”

“No. I can’t find anything. They must have gotten married abroad and never registered in Ireland. Do you know her name? That would help.”

“I don’t know her name. All I know is that someone named Sylvia—no last name, and not his new wife—came by here. Heavily pregnant. Possibly with his kid. Said she saw him six months ago in the States, but heard he’s in Ireland.”

Roman closed his eyes. “The fucker. We’ll find him. Ireland is a small country.”

“Did you drive all the way here to check on me, Roman?”

His fingers tightened. “Of course. You’re in a madman’s lair.”

Unlike her blood brother, Roman had always come through for her. “You should go. Oliver doesn’t trust me enough as is, and if he finds us out here… he’d kick me right out.”

“Come back to Dublin with me.”

A tempting offer. Dublin was familiar, safe. “I can’t. I’m not leaving until I learn what I came here for.”

Roman’s sigh dripped with disappointment, but he knew better than to argue. He dropped his hands. “Did Icefall tell you why he’s out in the middle of nowhere?”

A question she had asked daily since moving in with him. “Not yet.”

“And how much longer are you going to stay here?”

Question of the century. So far, her visit had not yielded a scrap of information that would lead them to Kyle, but she refused to give up. Oliver knew more than they did, and she’d find out what exactly. “Not sure… But you should go. Oliver’s a light sleeper.”

“Addy, I don’t like you staying with him alone.”

“I’m fine here. He’s… fine.” What had happened earlier, she firmly blocked out. “Cranky at times, but he keeps to himself.”

Reaching into his pocket, Roman produced a folded-over piece of paper. “Here. Found this in my wallet. Forgot that Netta gave it to me. Thought you should have it. For luck.”