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Trevor laid out the first part of their strategy, but the words barely reached Adrían’s ears. If he looked at the photo too much, the team would suspect something was wrong, but it was challenging.
Ayesha Savea was on their radar.
Backon their radar.
He raised his head.
Lavigne, the ignorant fucker, smirked.
If there was one thing that was different about them compared to the Alpha group, there would be no whisperings of them getting too close or operating like an organized crime family. To save Ayesha’s life, if he had to put a blade through every last one of these assholes’ eyes, he would do it without hesitation.
They thought they knew.
Lavignethought he knew, all because he’d caught him kissing Ayesha all those years ago in Maui. Lavigne had then accused him of getting too close to the operation; their task had been to find out whether Ayesha knew more than what she let on about Curtis’ life outside of being a husband and father. If she did, they were supposed to kill her and the boys.
Luckily, she didn’t, but by the time he found out, he’d already fallen in love. Had they tried to harm her or the boys, he would have laid waste to them all.
This group called him “quiet.”
Back in Brazil, he went by a different name.
Perhaps it was because he had no experience with that part of life that he fell so quickly for Ayesha. He’d never met someone he could talk to the way he talked to her, and while he chalked some of that up to her profession, few people could tell him she didn’t feel at least something for him.
She’d writhed underneath his touch. She’d sought him out, sought his kiss and his arms, always so wet for him that all he’d had to do was bend her over her desk and slide inside her body. He could still hear her moans, her sighs, and the echo of his voice calling her “querida,” repeatedly, as he spasmed inside her.
Fuck them if they thought he would be surveilling her for any other reason than to see if she’d give him another chance. This time, he would tell her his real name. He would tell her the truth about what he did and how those skills would keep her and her boys safe, no matter where they went in the world.
They were good together once.
They could be good together again.
“Oy.” A balled-up piece of paper hit him in the face. “Gano, where you off to, mate?”
He blinked.
Five pairs of eyes stared in his direction.
“Thinking,” he said.
Lavigne sent him a look.
With his eyes, he dared Lavigne to make a comment about him, Ayesha, his true motive for following her—anything. Yet, as all cowards did, Lavigne kept his mouth shut.
Had Lavigne been in his position, he was certain the asshole would have fallen for Ayesha the same way. They craved what she offered—attention, kindness, affection, consideration—and often, the heart hidden behind a stone wall was as soft as fresh snow.
He stood headed for the door.
“Hey, Gano,” Spettro called. “Aren’t you gonna need me to find the widow?”
With everything in him, he wanted them to stop calling her that. It wasn’t exactly easy when he realized to what extent he’d deceived Ayesha. If she ever found out that she’d slept with the man responsible for her husband’s death, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself.
Hopefully, she would find it in her heart to forgive him. The fact that he was a dangerous man didn’t automatically mean he was a heartless one.
“When you couldn’t find the lawyer?” he spat. “I brought her to your doorstep, and you lost her.”
Nicholas sneered.
Like he gave a fuck.
