“It’s about Miss Romero, sir.”

Killian fought not to stiffen as he seemed to involuntarily do every time her name was spoken. “What about her?”

Frank sucked in a breath that expanded his massive chest before fixing his gaze squarely on Killian.

“I was there the day your parents met.” A softness took over the harsh lines that usually hugged the sharp points of his features. “It was the first frost and her car fishtailed into the back of ours. She had been so embarrassed, but your father had laughed and said the only way he’d forgive her was if she had dinner with him. They were married six months later.”

Killian had heard the story a million times before. It had been his favorite for a long time, but it had always changed depending on who was telling it. His father claimed she’d done it on purpose to get his attention, to which she would gasp in indignation and swat him. His mother used to say she’d been busy looking for a street and hadn’t noticed the car stopping in front of her. It was interesting to hear it from a third party, even if it didn’t explain what the other man was getting at.

“What are you saying, Frank?”

“That it’s a rare thing to find someone who accepts the things we do, sir. For your father, it was your mother. She knew who he was and what he did and she still loved him. That love never faltered in fifteen years.” He paused, seemingly bracing himself for what he was about to say next. “A man can’t live alone forever and when a woman comes along who accepts him, his faults and demons, maybe it’s time he reevaluates his future.”

“Marriage and kids?” Killian guessed.

“Yes sir.”

The idea of being with Juliette forever, of having little girls with their mother’s eyes, hit him in all the places she had already made dents in his titanium wall. The impact had cracks splintering across the expense, but he held it together. He had to.

“You know why that can’t happen. Even if I got out, you know you are never really out. For the rest of my life and theirs, I would have to look over our shoulders, always afraid that I might lose them if I’m not careful and when I’m gone, this is the life that would be left behind for them. It needs to die with me, Frank. My children will never know this life. They will never have to go through what I did.”

Frank didn’t look ready to let the matter drop, but he inclined his head. “Yes sir. I understand.” The bigger man shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Tyson and John are here.”

Killian sat back gingerly. “Send them in.”

He fired them both. It hadn’t been a simple decision. For a moment, he had even considered letting it go this once, but life didn’t work that way, especially when their vigilance was the reason he’d hired them in the first place. It didn’t matter that Juliette was a grown woman. They were responsible for keeping an eye on her, keeping her safe, and they had failed. Because of them, she could have been hurt or worse and that was inexcusable no matter how loyal they were. He needed men who could do their job. Not that that would save Juliette once he got his hands on her. She had no idea what she’d be stumbling into and had foolishly put herself in incredible danger. It was pure luck that she’d arrived mere minutes after it was all over. Even an hour earlier and … Killian stiffened all over at the thought of Juliette in Smith’s clutches.

Endy Kinch had been the head of Killian’s gaming business for over eight years. He wasn’t much to look at with his bulging brown eyes and squashed face, but he had a head for numbers and ran a fierce house. Killian had found him hustling tourists in the park with the tired ball under a cup trick. But he’d been good and made a solid grand a week. It was that sort of skill Killian had been looking for. He’d hired Kinch on the spot and had never once regretted it.

Nevertheless, Killian allowed the man to defend himself against the allegations Smith had made, even while Killian hadn’t believed a word of it.

“He threw a fit and I kicked him out,” Kinch explained simply. “There was no cheating. I check all the fighters before they go on and I checked Jameson like all the rest. I got video surveillance to prove it. He’s just a good fighter, a bit sloppy, but decent.”

“I want those tapes,” Killian told him. “And I better not find anything I don’t like on them, Kinch.”

Kinch inclined his head. “I’ll vouch for my fighters, sir. And the way I run my games. May not all be legal, but they’re damn fair.”

Killian believed him. It was hard not to when there was only one complaint in eight years.

There was nothing but a week’s worth of paperwork waiting for him after Kinch left. A mountain that seemed impossibly high. Thankfully, Frank had taken care of most of the emails and phone calls in Killian’s absence or it would have been much worse.

He was just beginning to get into the familiar rhythm when Juliette arrived. Her presence momentarily baffled him before he realized it was already after seven and the world outside had grown dark and gloomy in the early November night. He set his pen down as she headed towards his desk with a small smile. Her movement was it’s usual hurried pace of someone on a mission, but he had enough time to enjoy the way her burgundy skirt clung to her hips and hugged her legs all the way to the calves before flaring out. Her coat was open to the soft, black blouse underneath and there were black heels strapped to her feet that cracked with every stride.

“You’re up,” she said in the way of greeting. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said, gathering his papers and tucking them into their folder. “How was work?”

She shrugged. “Busy, but nothing exciting happened.” She watched him and he wondered if she was waiting for him to cry out in pain or pass out again. “I noticed John and Tyson are gone. Are they on holiday or…?”

He yanked open his drawer and stuffed the folders into them. He shut them in and rose to his feet.

“I fired them.”

There was a flicker of confusion on her face, a fine wrinkle between her brows. “Why?”

“Because they didn’t do their job,” he told her simply. “They didn’t watch you like they were supposed to so I have no need for them.”

Her mouth parted in a silent O of stunned silence that radiated the horror shining in her wide eyes.

“What?” She shook her head like by doing so, it would make the situation less true. “Why would you … that’s … it wasn’t their fault! I’m the one who got away from them. You can’t—”

“I can,” he interrupted sharply. “I pay them to do a specific job and that job is to make sure you are safe.”

“They were doing their job!” she cried, her eyes glistening with tears of anger. “It was my fault.”

“Five men in a secured house and they couldn’t keep an eye on you.” His voice vibrated with a sort of rage that scared even him. “How can I trust that they can keep you safe when you’re out? How can I trust that they will be efficient enough not to lose you in a crowded mall? Your safety was put into question and I won’t have that, not when the thought of something happening to you is the only thing that can break me. You’re my weakness, Juliette. You’re my Achilles’ heel, the key to bringing me down and I can’t lose you.”

She said nothing for so long, he wondered if she’d frozen in place. She studied him with those doe brown eyes filled with tears and something he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted a name for. Finally, she pulled herself up. She dragged her coat together over her clothes and hugged her middle as though a chill had passed through the room.

“If that’s your way of getting me to stop being angry, then it’s very underhanded.”

“No, love.” He moved around the desk until he was directly in front of her. “That’s me trying to keep you safe. Jake and Melton have their orders and you…” He took her warm face between his palms. “Are to follow them, do you hear me? If you ever pull anything as foolish and reckless as that again, I will put you over my knee and I promise you won’t walk straight for a week.”