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Callum pulls me close again—gentle, protective, and right away the tension building in my muscles starts to dissolve. I can breathe easier with my head against his shoulder.

His lips brush my ear before he whispers, “If I could take all this away, I would. Those aren't just words. I would rather you not have to go through any of this.”

“I believe you.” I can’t help but nuzzle his neck, breathing deep, looking to pull as much of his scent into my lungs as I can.

“I think for now, the best thing to do is wait for him to come to you. If you confront him—and anything will seem like a confrontation, no matter how kind and concerned you come across—it will only worsen things. Right now, from the sound of things, you don’t want to make it any more difficult than it is.

“That's true.”

His arms tighten around me. “Outside of that, I want you to know that I swear to you on my life that I did not have anything to do with your mother's death. I’m going to find out what happened though, because seeing you so broken up and hurt kills me.”

“You don't have to. ” Even if my heart does soar at the possibility. If anybody has the resources, it's him.

“I'm not saying it just to say it. I mean it. I have every intention of figuring this out.”

“Really?” I almost can't believe the emotion that wells in my chest. It’s all-consuming. The idea of not having to handle this mental load alone is overwhelming. I didn’t understand until now, really, what a strain it’s been. How lonely it is to carry a secret all by myself. I don’t have to be alone anymore.

“We're going to make it through this, I promise.” Callum’s lips brush against my neck and I sigh, fully content.

For the first time in days, I have faith. I can allow myself to believe this could end. That maybe, finally, Dad can have the closure he needs. “Please,” I whisper, tucking my head under his chin like he can protect me from the world. “I’m afraid that if he doesn't find out the truth, it will destroy him, and then he won't have anything left to live for. Not even me.”

The truth of that statement pierces my heart with a dull knife.

I can't lose my dad. I’ve already lost too much.

Callum's hold tightens, dragging me from my thoughts, and while I’m afraid of the uncertainty of what may happen going forward between us, I’ve never been more content in my life, cradled in his arms. And it makes me believe that we might have finally found our way back to each other. Against all odds.

CALLUM

I have prepared for meetings with highly violent, volatile men and felt less pressure than I do now, putting together a tray of food and coffee in the kitchen for which I plan to bring up to the bedroom. Bianca was asleep when I left her there, sprawled out on her stomach, her hair fanned out across the pillow. I could have laid there for hours watching her. Soaking in her soft sighs, the rhythm of her breathing, and the way her brow would sometimes wrinkle. Like even in her sleep, her troubles follow her.

Today is a new day, and I hope, as I gather breakfast with Sheryl's help, that between last night and this morning I can convince my little bird that I'm committed to taking as much of her troubles away as I can.

“I take it Miss Bianca is back?” Sheryl's eyes twinkle as she fills up a platter of muffins, fruit, and cheese. “This is what she likes best for breakfast.”

“I'm sure she'll appreciate your thoughtfulness.” So do I, but it's unusual being in this situation. Almost embarrassing. Like getting caught by a parent. I must remind myself she's my employee, not a disapproving guardian. No matter if she likes to act like she is occasionally.

As I set off with the tray, my gait is lighter than it’s been in days, even if I slightly dread what's coming next. We concluded things well last night, and I couldn't have been more relieved when she agreed to spend the night. I didn't want to send her back home to him. I know he would never hurt her—of that, I'm certain—but it's still not a welcoming environment.

Whether or not it's right, I need to protect her from returning to a hostile situation. I know I can't save her from all of the world's evils any more than I can save my daughter, though I'll be damned if I don't try.

She's still asleep by the time I return, still on her stomach with one knee hitched up and off to the side. The blanket barely covers her ass—the most innocently erotic thing imaginable. Even when she's asleep, everything about her reaches something in me.

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