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“Anything else at all that seems odd?” Sasha asked.
“As I’ve already mentioned, the gifts.” For a moment, she stared ahead vacantly. “We’ve always been careful with money. We do well enough, but…” She gestured vaguely at the luxurious house around them. “This was a gift from my family. Felix has always been sensitive about that.”
“I’d like to increase surveillance on your husband,” Sasha said carefully. “With your permission, of course.”
“Is that really necessary?”
She chose her words with care. “The more we know, the better we can help. You. And maybe your husband.”
As if it were a lifeline, Mrs. Santos pulled her cup closer to her.
“Maybe I’m overreacting.”
Definitely not.“No,” Sasha assured her. “Your instincts that something is wrong are valid. But let me do my job and investigate properly before we jump to conclusions.”
Sasha’s phone buzzed. “Excuse me.” She glanced at the screen, expecting another update from Ashley or perhaps a notification about Hawkeye’s security team.
Mind your own business. Or the old woman dies.
The phone nearly slipped from her fingers, and Gregorio reached across the table to grab the device.
Outside, a car door slammed.
Mrs. Santos paled and jumped up. “That’s Felix’s car.”
Chapter Twelve
“I have no idea how many years it’s been since I had to scramble over a fence,” Sasha said with a small wince.
AsFelix Santos had entered the house, Gregorio and Sasha had hustled out the backdoor of the mansion and made a mad dash for the far end of the property.
Close escapes were a constant in his life. Maybe too constant.
With a half-smile, she accepted the wineglass he offered. “Appreciate it.”
Holding a glass of Bonds whiskey, he sank into the chair close to her. On the Den’s patio, flickering flames from the firepit cast shadows across her face, making her skin golden and catching the highlights in her hair.
After they’d sped away from the Santos’ neighborhood, Sasha had said very little.
Then they’d met with the Hawkeye teams, and she’d sent the new office codes to her staff.
During the drive back up the mountain, they’d debriefed with Inamorata. Sasha had been efficient. Professional. Keeping it together.
But he’d noticed the way her hands curled into fists in her lap, the way she kept her spine straight as if she was bracing for impact.
But even here, where they were safe, the vast Colorado sky stretching above them and the crisp mountain air biting at his skin, the tension in his shoulders refused to ease.
This mission wasn’t like the others. No clear orders. No defined threat. Just a tangled web of questions and half-truths, and the gnawing sense that someone—maybe everyone—was lying. Gregorio hated not knowing. Hated the way his instincts itched, like he was walking blindfolded through a minefield.
He took a breath. Then another.
The Santos mess was handled…for now.
Hawkeye had what they needed…for now.
Her discovery of Argentum’s involvement confirmed Sasha was caught up in something big and dangerous, and it redoubled his determination not to let her go it alone. Despite her protests that she didn’t need to be sheltered away at his cabin, that was exactly where she was going. Not just because she’d been family at one point. And not just because she’d come to him for help and his integrity wouldn’t allow him to walk away.
After last night, Sasha was in his heart.