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“Which I didn’t know about.”

Desmond had nearly rolled his eyes at the flat-out lie.

“How are you even planning to get close enough to talk to her? You’ll never get past Gavin.” He’d thought it only fair to sway the woman from something that could only lead to her death.

“I could with your help.” Crying, she had thrust herself into his arms. “You helped me once before. I’m begging, Desmond.” Lifting her face to his, she had wound her arms around his neck.

It had taken everything he could not to cringe.

“You saved me on the worst day of my life. Evangeline’s, also. She would have drowned that day if not for you.”

The reminder of that day had him jerking out away from her. The night Soleil had referred to still burned him, that he had been unsuccessful in killing Ivan and Gabriel. If he hadn’t been pulling a double shift to go to the island, he would have been on Ivan’s boat and would have heard the beating that had taken place while he’d been gone. When he had come back with the fresh supplies, it’d been to the staff and Ivan in turmoil about a child sneaking on board. Ivan had been frantic about finding out what the child had stolen.

From the moment he had stepped back onboard, he had sensed something terrible had happened. When he’d tried to ask several of the crew, they had scattered away fearfully.

With terror clogging his throat, he had grabbed the first thing that could satisfy his curiosity—to this day, he still couldn’t believe he had the wherewithal to take the hard drive from the security system—before going to Aanya’s suite. He had found his way blocked by her security detail. Their grim faces had warned him away.

When he had tried to explain he wanted to see if Anaya needed anything before he retired for the night, he had been told she had flown back to her home.

He’d walked away from the suite, knowing she was dead inside. He’d felt it in every pore of his being.

He had gone back to the main room, where Ivan had been ranting, only to find him gone. Gabriel had sent one of his boats to pick him up.

Taking the spare key he had planned to use when Aanya and he made their escape, he used it to go back to Sherguevil Island with every intention of killing Ivan, and whomever else was in his way.

Starting the boat, he had seen a fire coming from the dock lighting the dark sky. He drove to the side of the dock, cutting the lights and killing the motor so no one would see him. As he did, Desmond was able to see the child climbing off the boat that was on fire and starting to swim. From the loud voices on the dock, he could make out that the owner of the boat was dead, and the fire had been set to draw the child out.

Keeping an eye on the swimming child, he waited until she slowed down before diving underwater. Luckily, he had been close enough to her before she had sunk even further.

Swimming back to the boat, he pushed her over the hull then pulled himself abroad the boat. Then he’d found a blanket and covered her before checking for a pulse.

Mercifully, the tide had been ebbing toward Clindale, drifting until he was out of sight. He had been about to start the motor when saw a small motorboat nearly run into them. Turning on a flashlight, he had recognized the woman.

“Did you just come from Sherguevil Island? I’m trying to find my daughter. Did you see a little girl—”

“I have her,” Desmond cut her off. He could see her relieved expression in the dim light. “You’re not the only one looking for her.”

“Give her to me.” Soleil had maneuvered her boat closer, holding her arms out.

Reaching down, he lifted the unconscious child, and as he leaned over to hand the child over, the blanket slipped away, and he could see what was pinned on her top. The expensive pin was confirmation that his worst fear was true. Aanya was dead. The pin had always been latched to her clothing, showing her status as royalty.

Desmond pointed to the pin. “They’re searching for her because she has that pin. They’re not going to let her live if they find out she’s the one who has it, even if you give it back,” he had warned her.

“Gabriel won’t let anyone harm my child,” she had argued.

“Gabriel Allerton won’t care if he’s fucking you or that she’s his kid. Ivan won’t let her live.”

“Gabriel Allerton isn’t her father. Jasper—”

“I don’t give a fuck if your husband is turning a blind eye to your affair. I’ve done what I can. You let Allerton find out she’s the one who was on the island tonight, the kid won’t live to see another day.”