Page 42 of Guarded Knight (Echo Valley #3)

Xander and the girls left for his meeting in San Francisco, and I’ve never felt the silence settle so heavy.

Xander squeezes me harder than normal, apologizing when I cough under his loving pressure, and the girls both cried when hugging me goodbye.

Watching their car disappear felt like watching the last thread of peace unravel.

I’m not sure they like it out there and I question how they’re settling in.

When we were with the horses, they both confided in me that the kids at their new school have all been to like every country and that speaking only one extra language isn’t all that great.

They told me all the kids were sept-lingual, a made-up word I’m sure, and a made-up fact as well.

But it tells me they don’t think they fit in and are, heartbreakingly, feeling less than.

Now I see that their Spanish with Gabriel was even more than simply impressing their favorite grump.

The wind kicks up as we leave the giant gate out front. Monarch Hills smells like summer clinging to fall’s edges—warm hay, sharp pine, and something impossibly golden in the air.

I wrap my arms around myself as we cross the gravel lot to the main house, my sneakers crunching softly beside Gabriel’s heavier boots.

He walks like a storm bottled tight, each step precise, as if keeping pace with me is the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

I wonder if he’s replaying whatever Xander said, if it made him doubt.

He told me he was certain about me, but what if certainty can crack under pressure?

I’ve never seen them so serious nor exchange quite so many words in one sitting, and what could have been said makes my stomach twist. I haven’t let my guard down in years. Hell, ever since we kissed back in that hospital room. What if that talk with my brother scrambled him all up again?

I don’t give a crap.

I’m not taking no for an answer, and Gabriel should fight for us, too.

I hope he did.

I want to believe we’ll have time to figure out what last night and, well, everything means. But time isn’t something I’ve ever had much of.

Instead, I need to turn back to this dumpster fire I call my reality and put it to rest once and for all. Anton and Freya walked down to summon us back to the boardroom, so it must be serious.

We walk toward the house, the silence between us taut as a bowstring. Somewhere in the barn, a horse nickers. A dog barks twice, then goes quiet. Life at Monarch Hills keeps pulsing forward—easy, natural, unbothered.

I feel anything but.

The cold edges its way down the back of my neck. I hug myself tighter, but it’s not the weather that’s getting to me. It’s the wait. On everything. On Gabriel. On what my brother said. On catching Kevin so I can breathe easy again. On just… living.

Eventually, we reach the family offices, where we join Rio, who is pacing up and down along the wall of windows, shadows catching on his angular, handsome face as he orders someone to solve it before he has to.

He hangs up and turns toward us. “I look forward to having a beer with you guys at the Cantina instead of meeting here one day.”

“Trust me, Rio,” I agree. “I’ll be buying if we can end this drama once and for all.” I let myself fall into one of the leather conference chairs. “Thanks for helping. I know you’re busy.”

Rio takes a seat in front of his laptop which he taps a few times.

“I have a folder here with some evidence. We found facial recognition matches for both Belinda, if that’s her name, and Kevin, if that’s his name, on the CEO pages of multiple charities across the country and even one in England and another in South Africa. ”

The list of charities and shell boards drones on. I should be scribbling notes, but all I can think about is Gabriel. About whether I’m still the woman he worshipped like a goddess last night, the one he’s certain of, or if my brother made him second-guess it.

Rio keeps going, saying he’s reached his technical limit with the tools, that he doesn’t have manpower for a few days at HQ.

Without Ava and Enzo here it’s the best he could do, but at least we have motive.

“In a few days, my guys in San Francisco will connect the dots and then we can take this to the Feds.”

Anton continues. “The motive is definitely there to get Lara out of the picture. He knows you have information, maybe even more than you’ve let on.

He can’t fire you without cause, so we think he’s playing as a stalker, hoping to either scare you out of town and into hiding, like sadly happens in many cases, or maybe you’ll get frazzled enough to mess up and give him reason to fire you. ”

“Or maybe he wants to actually hurt her.” Freya’s jaw is tight and her brow furrowed. “Can’t we get him taken into custody with all this?”

Gabriel’s jaw tics like he’s one breath away from detonation. “We can’t get law enforcement on him with what you found?”

By the look on his face, he’d rather take care of Kevin himself.

Rio rolls up his sleeves, and I catch the flash of ink across his forearms. He looks every inch the man who makes problems disappear.

“Here’s the deal,” Rio asserts. “Kevin wouldn’t be arrested on the evidence I have now. We don’t have evidence of intent to commit fraud. Not yet. And if he spooks before we get it, he could run, he could… try to get rid of those with knowledge.” He glances at me earnestly.

How could Kevin have done this? I had a gut feeling from day one that Kevin was shady but I needed the job and loved the cause. I can’t believe he would stalk me, find his way into my house… and those photos? If he wanted to scare me, it worked.

Hell, I agreed to move here. And I’ve definitely been off my game.

Now that I think of it, it makes sense. Kevin could have gotten my key out of any coat check or snuck it out when I was at day-long conferences and had a copy made. Did Belinda help him? Or someone else? But how did he get into the apartment here?

I sit up straight. “Do you think he wants to actually… hurt me?”

Gabriel grabs my hand. “Doesn’t matter what he wants. He doesn’t get it.”

His entire body is wound tight like a wire ready to snap. “Rio, did you find anything else at all? Any other connections to Lara’s name online? I know this is a hot lead with a massive motive, but we need to cover it all.”

“No, but I’ll have one of my guys in San Francisco widen the net once he finishes his current project. Keep Lara close, hermano. In the meantime, I have plenty of information on Belinda, who could be in the shadows, too. Some of the things he pulled off would be easier with a partner.”

Freya shifts beside me, and guilt punches through the fog. Kevin didn’t just use me, he used her heart. Whatever this costs me, she’s the one who has to live with that betrayal. I reach over and squeeze her hand under the table.

“Freya, you said you searched on your private tablet. Right?”

She nods.

“Rio, could there be any way Kevin would know Freya knows, too?”

“Unlikely. I suggest you both act as normal as possible for the next few days.”

“That’s going to be fun,” Freya says sarcastically. “We have the gala in a couple days.”

Freya leans forward, arms folded on the table. “Surely, Lara shouldn’t go to the gala. Maybe we should just quit?”

Rio sits back and places his fingertips together.

“You need to play nice and give GhostEye some extra time to gather evidence. You run; he might run. You’re both free to do what you want, but that would be my advice.

We have a chance to take down a mighty fine asshole.

I know that’s my catnip, but it’s also a just cause.

You ladies worked hard to raise these funds for people who needed it.

” He seethes, as if it’s as personal to him as it is to us.

“He stole from innocent children and families. He needs to be locked up.”

“You’re right,” I murmur, “but giving him more time isn’t what I had in mind.”

Gabriel leans in, his hand brushing my thigh under the table, grounding me. “We won’t let it get that far. You’re not his victim, Lara. You’re his reckoning.”

The heat of his hand on my thigh is a silent reminder that I’m not in this alone. He believes in me. He’s not just saving me; he’s backing me to be one of the bad bitches who takes this guy down.

Right now, though, it’s all such a shock. Staying cool in front of my criminal boss and donors. The danger of knowing I have to pretend around a man who watched me in my sleep. The way my heart feels like it’s ticking louder than the clock. “I feel like bait again.”

Gabriel turns to face me fully. His jaw is locked tight, like it takes everything in him not to slam his fist through the wall. There’s war going on behind his eyes.

He is as rough as he is absolute. “You’re not the bait this time, Lara. You’re the hunter.”

Something breaks loose in my chest.

Power.

Those around me have always sheltered me with love, whisking me away from every minefield I might be about to enter. This is someone standing beside me while I aim the damn weapon.

There’s something primal in the way Gabriel speaks. “Make him underestimate you. Show him you’re rattled. You do this and he’ll think he’s gotten to you. It’ll buy time to lock him up for good.”

I stare up at him, my pulse thudding so hard it hurts. He’s not trying to clip my wings. He’s the wind beneath them.

But the same force that lifts me could break me if I fall.

Because the danger I’m walking into on Thursday isn’t the only one I’m afraid of.

The other danger is the one sitting right beside me.

The way Gabriel looks at me like he’s already decided we’re more than I’ve ever let myself hope.

And if I have to stay here, if I live through this, there will be time to figure out what that really means.

Time I’m not sure I’m ready for, even as I ache for it.

Everyone starts talking about exits and surveillance at the event. Anton reassures Freya he won’t let anything happen. But I can barely follow the words.

The logistics of how to keep me and Freya safe and how to observe Kevin are a blur.

Anton’s going tonight to scope the venue beforehand and pretend to work there as security tomorrow; Gabriel will pretend to be the event manager so he can tail me attentively, as if making sure the event is unfolding well.

I walk them through the schedule, email over the guest list… I participate.

The meeting breaks into details I can barely track, my pen moving without my brain. All I can think is that soon, I’ll have to stand in a room with a man who’s watched me sleep and pretend I don’t know about him.

And when my chest tightens, Gabriel’s hand presses harder against my thigh. A silent promise.

But promises don’t stop bullets, or lies, or the truth waiting to rip us apart.