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“On my mark,” I respond, voice barely above a whisper. “Three, two, one...mark.”

A series of small explosions erupts from the far side of the property. Flash-bangs and smoke grenades creating the illusion of a major assault. The guards at the main entrance immediately respond, drawing their weapons and moving toward the disturbance. Predictable. Amateurs.

I use the diversion to approach the house from the east side, where a trellis covered in ivy provides access to the second floor. The climb is easy, my body moving with purpose and precision. Each handhold brings me closer to Audrey. Each second that passes feeds the rage burning in my gut.

The second-floor window is locked, but the security system is basic. Thirty seconds with my knife, and I’m through, sliding the window open and slipping inside. I find myself in a guest bedroom. The room is unoccupied, pristine, and smells faintly of lemon polish and expensive cologne.

I move to the door, pressing my ear against it before easing it open. The hallway beyond is dimly lit, lined with closed doors. I check each one methodically, clearing rooms with the efficiency drilled into me during years of combat operations. Empty bedroom. Empty bathroom. Locked office.

The fourth door is different. It’s reinforced, with a deadbolt that can only be locked from the outside. My pulse quickens. This is it. This is where they’re keeping her.

I press my ear to the wood, straining to hear any sound from within. Nothing. I’m about to try the lock when gunfire erupts outside, sharp cracks that cut through the night. Marcus engaging the guards who’ve realized the diversion is just that.

No more time for subtlety. I step back and kick the door just beside the lock, the wood splintering under the force. The door flies open, and I move in low, weapon drawn, ready for anything.

Except what I find.

Audrey stands in the center of the room, a silver letter opener clutched in her hand like a dagger, her body in a fighting stance. Her eyes widen when she sees me, recognition and relief washing over her face.

“Reign,” she whispers, the letter opener dropping from her fingers.

I holster my weapon and cross the room in four strides, pulling her against me with enough force to knock the breath from both of us. Her arms wrap around my neck, her body trembling against mine. I bury my face in her hair, breathing in her scent, reassuring myself that she’s real. She’s here. She’s safe.

“Did he hurt you?” I pull back just enough to scan her face, my hands cupping her cheeks. “Tell me what he did.”

“I’m okay.” Her fingers dig into my shoulders like she’s afraid I’ll disappear. “He drugged me, brought me here. Tried to convince me I was confused about breaking the engagement.”

The mention of the engagement sends fresh rage coursing through me. I run my hands down her arms, checking for injuries, needing to touch her, to confirm she’s unharmed.

“We need to go,” I say, already turning toward the door. “Marcus and Ben are outside. We’ve got a boat waiting.”

“Ben?” Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Your brother is here?”

“Family helps family.” I take her hand, leading her toward the hallway. “And you’re family now.”

We make it two steps into the hall before a voice stops us cold.

“How touching.”

Gio Vega stands at the end of the corridor, a pistol aimed directly at my chest. His tailored suit is rumpled, his normally-perfect hair disheveled. A white bandage wraps around one hand, spotted with blood. His eyes are cold, calculating, fixed on where my fingers intertwine with Audrey’s.

“Let her go,” I say, pushing Audrey slightly behind me. “This is between you and me.”

“On the contrary.” Vega’s accent thickens with anger. “This is about property. My property.”

I feel Audrey stiffen behind me. My hand tightens around hers.

My voice drops to a dangerous register. “She doesn’t belong to you.”

“No?” Vega takes a step forward, the gun never wavering. “I have contracts that say otherwise. Agreements with her stepmother. Millions invested in her family’s company.” His eyes shift to Audrey. “Tell him,cara. Tell him about our arrangement.”

“There is no arrangement anymore,” Audrey says, her voice stronger than I expected. “I ended it. I gave back your ring.”

Vega laughs, the sound devoid of humor. “You think it’s that simple? That you can just walk away from me? From everything I’ve built?”

“Yes,” I say, calculating the distance between us, looking for an opening. “That’s exactly what’s happening.”

His eyes narrow, focusing on me with new intensity. “You. The security contractor. I should have known when Ben brought you to the poker game. The way you reacted when I mentioned moving up the wedding date.”