He holds a finger up to my mouth to quiet me. “I’m fine, but you need to calm down, kotyonok. Upsetting yourself like this doesn’t help anything. I know you miss him and you feel guilty for not telling him how you felt before all of this happened, but you have to believe you’re going to see him again.”

“What if I don’t? What if something goes wrong with the whole Vincent thing and he kills me first? What if Vincent never comes back from Italy? What happens to me then? You’re just gonna let me go?” I sniffle while wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. “There are all these what-ifs, Raze, and you know as well as I do that anything can happen. The actual chance of Madden and me ever being reunited is slim, and even if we are, I doubt things will ever be the same again between us.

“I mean, how will he look at me now that he knows who I am and what I’ve done? He’s probably disgusted at the thought of me. Not to mention, our relationship has now nearly gotten him killed. He probably hates—”

This time, two fingers pressed to my lips cut me off. “He definitely loves you,” he states without hesitation. “And none of that will matter to him. Not even a little bit. Trust me on this. I would’ve died a thousand deaths for my Darya to live her one life.”

With no intelligible response to his profound assertion, I curl back up against his chest and close my eyes. The next thing I know, I’m waking up to the smell of maple syrup and bacon, tucked into Raze’s bed, alone.

DESPITE THE DOCTOR’S STRICT ORDERS about staying in bed and resting for at least seven to ten days, the morning after I arrive home from Chicago, I step out of the elevator onto the tenth floor, which is exclusive to Decker Enterprises. Lance, the personal bodyguard assigned to me by the FBI despite my reluctance, steps out with me, undeterred by the leave-me-the-fuck-alone vibe I’ve been giving since he followed me into the building.

Already irritated, when I’m greeted cheerfully by the receptionist with a “Welcome back, Mr. Decker!” I just scowl and make a beeline for my office without saying a word. I’m not in the mood for fake pleasantries. I feel like I’ve been hit by an eighteen-wheeler, I’ve got an unwanted shadow, and my girlfriend is still fucking missing!

“Oh, good God, Madden,” Caroline, my personal assistant, exclaims when she sees me approaching. “You said you got in a little scuffle, not that you got the bloody snot beaten out of you. And you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone with you to the office.”

“Caroline, this is Lance, my assigned security. He’s gonna hang out here with you when I’m in the office,” I announce, shifting my focus back and forth between the two of them. “Lance, this is my assistant, Caroline. If you need something, she can help you.”

I don’t wait for either of them to respond before I spin on my heel and stride toward my office. Grabbing a legal pad, Caroline jumps to her feet and circles around her desk to join me for a briefing, which is how we start every normal workday.

“I’m fine, Caroline. There’s no need to make a bigger deal out of this than necessary, and no, I don’t want to talk about it,” I clip, tossing my briefcase on the back credenza before settling in my chair. “Obviously, we need to go over what I’ve missed this week at some point, but first I want to let you know I’ve already sent an email to accounting to properly compensate you with a bonus for what I’m sure have been four days of complete hell. I appreciate not only you stepping up and keeping this place from falling apart, but also for allowing me the time I needed without being constantly harassed with emails and calls.”

She smiles humbly, tucking a strand of gray hair back behind her ear. “I appreciate your faith in me, Madden, but I haven’t been doing it alone. Your brother has been here, before me every morning and after me every evening, personally reviewing all the documents I’ve prepared and answering most of the emails.”

“Easton? Are you serious?” I peer up at her, my forehead creased with suspicion.

Caroline nods emphatically, her mouth curving into an eager grin. “Yes, and he’s already hired a replacement for Emerson. A woman I recommended to him from my Bunco group.”

The mention of Emerson’s name nullifies any positivity from the conversation, but it reminds me of my priorities this morning. “Very well. I’ll speak with him later. I’m only here to grab a couple of files off the server to review this weekend. I don’t plan on staying long.” Glancing down at my desk, the memory of the evening Blake surprised me by bringing dinner flashes in my mind. The way my sweet girl looked spread out naked atop the wooden surface makes my dick twitch. Fucking hell. Not now.

“Have you heard anything about where Ms. Martin is? Who might have her?” Caroline asks, her hushed tone snapping me from my daydream.

“No.” I shake my head. “I ruled out a place she’s not, but no new leads.”

When I called to let her know I wouldn’t be at work this week, I confided in my longtime assistant about what had happened, trusting her not to tell anyone. She doesn’t know details about Blake’s past, but is aware of the situation and more than willing to help me in any way possible.

Her smile fades and she looks down at the notepad in her hands, like she’s not sure what to say. I mean, honestly, there’s nothing that can be said to make the situation any better, unless it’s the location of my girlfriend.

Saving her from any lingering awkwardness, I change the subject and keep talking. “I’m meeting my parents for lunch, since I missed Sunday brunch last weekend with everything going on. I told my mom I was out of town on business, but I failed to mention that my face looks like it’s been through a meat grinder, so I need to stop and pick her up some flowers beforehand to soften the blow. Would you mind calling that florist I like to use on Justine Street and have them put together something she’d like?”

“No problem. Budget?” She jots down a note to herself.

I shrug as I power on my desktop computer. “Whatever. Will two hundred get me something nice?”

“Definitely. Anything else you need from me?”

To ensure Lance—or anyone who may have bugged my office—can’t hear me, I motion for her to approach my desk. On a piece of paper, I write out instructions for her to go at lunch and buy me a phone with a prepaid plan then to personally deliver it to Easton and tell him to bring it to my house tonight. After she reads it, she nods to let me know she’s finished and understands, and then I feed the paper through the shredder I keep under my desk.

“I think that should take care of everything, Caroline. Thank you again for everything.

Once she’s gone, I slide open the desk drawer to grab a flash drive to save my files on, when the picture of Blake as a teenager pushed all the way to the back catches my eye. Unable to resist the temptation, I take it out and stare at it for a good five minutes. My throat thickens as tears prick the backs of my eyes, the thoughts of what she endured at such a young age rocking me to the core.

It all makes better sense now. My initial draw to her, the irresistible desire to take care of her, to absorb her darkness as my own. That’s who I am as a lover. A guardian. A protector. I find my ultimate pleasure when she willingly gives me control of her body, mind, and soul, and allows me to free her from the demons that haunt her. Knowing she trusts me with all of her is the highest of highs.

And knowing I failed to keep her safe is the lowest of lows.

Pissed off, I slam the drawer closed and stand abruptly. Fuck the files. Who am I kidding? It’s not like I’m really going to work on any of this shit this weekend anyway. I’ve already got a full agenda.