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Silver pins him to the couch with a stern look. “I did isolate some feature of his face, and unless he got a nose job, he is neither of those two.”

Sebastian looks at the other four security men standing in a corner of the room.

“Get someone here who can do a sketch based on her description,” he orders, and one of the men nods and walks away with Sven.

“Is my family okay?” Silver’s broken voice brings our attention back to her.

She’s looking at Sebastian but I feel the weight of her fear. It’s raw and palpable and suffocating. What have I done? What have I done?

“As of the last time we checked with the people following your case, they’re okay,” Sebastian confirms. It’s a non-answer, the kind I give when I don’t know, or don’t want to tell someone what’s going on. My stomach clenches in a painful grip.

“So, you have no idea,” she states.

“We have no reason to think they’re in danger.”

I want to punch him in the face. He can’t use these mind games on her. She’s way too smart and way too involved for him to underestimate her and treat her like a pain in the ass. She technicallyisa thorn in his side, given that I could have chosen one of the women my father suggested and nothing like this would have happened. But I don’t regret my decision for one minute. Silver is the best thing that ever happened to me.

“Just like you had no reason to think there was someone here in Los Angeles following me,” she points out.

“Considering you just confirmed that he isn’t one of the two people we suspected, no, we have no reason to think someone is after your family.” Sebastian’s answer is stern, making my blood boil.

“Enough!” I snap and everyone looks at me. “I want to know who this man is, how he’s related to those two, and if her family is in danger or not. I want a report every hour until we get to the bottom of this shit. Do you understand me?”

Sebastian just nods, stands up, and goes to talk to his men. Silver stands up too and I reach out a hand to try to touch her, but she dodges me.

“It’s better if we stay home until we know if it’s safe to go out. I’ll cancel every appointment and ask Cindy to reschedule yours too,” I say to her, but she’s not meeting my gaze. “Silver, you’re safe in this house,” I add, and she just nods.

Everything I say right now is like water skimming over her but not soaking in.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” is all she says, turning around and walking toward the other room.

I follow her. She may not want me here, but I need to know she’s okay, or at least will be. “Silver,” I whisper, closing the door behind me.

“You promised to keep me and my family safe.” There is no accusation in her voice, she’s just stating a fact.

Yes, I promised and failed to deliver. Her back is turned, but I can feel her hurt. She trusted me and I let her down. The emptiness in my chest is suffocating.

When I speak, my voice sounds insecure. “You’re safe. I promise, you’re safe.”

She turns around and pins me to the spot with a severe look. “Am I? For how long? And what about my family? Do we have to spend our lives locked in a room because we’ll get shot otherwise? You promised to keep me safe, Raphael, but I am not safe. Not by a long shot.”

I open my mouth to reassure her, but there’s nothing I can say to fix this situation. I failed, just like I failed to protect Kelsey and my sister.

It’s a curse I can’t break. I deserve to spend my life alone.

Sitting on the bed, I stare at a picture of my family. It’s an ordinary picture of us in our backyard in the summertime, laughing at something someone said. My mother, my father, and my little sister and I are sitting around a table. I don’t remember who took the picture.

“Is that your family?” Raphael asks, sitting next to me.

I didn’t hear him come into the bedroom. I nod without looking away from my phone.

“This is the last picture I have of them. After that summer, I moved back to college and then I never saw them again.”

He says nothing. I know he’s hurting over this situation. Fear made me take my anger out on him, but rationally I know he really did try to protect me. It’s just that my heart can’t seem to accept what my mind knows. He wants to be the hero, to save everyone, but he can’t. Some things are bigger than he can handle, and he needs to understand that he can’t fix everything.

“I was trying to remember who took this photo or what we were laughing at, but I can’t remember anything about that day. At least nothing important. That’s what makes me so angry. I took those moments for granted and I can’t have them back. Why were we laughing? What was the occasion? Someone else took the picture, who was it? A relative? Friend?”

He finds his voice. “You look happy. Does it matter why?”