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twenty-three

Davey expected a lot of things when he walked into the café.

He expected Cade to be pissed. Expected the conversation to turn into a fight, maybe even come to blows.

What he didn’t expect was Cade Wilde, six-foot-three of tactical menace, bouncing a drooling baby on his knee while feeding her pieces of toast like it was a delicate military operation.

The Glock concealed under his jacket was standard Cade. The pink sippy cup? That was new.

He sure as hell didn’t expect Nova Wilde—small, chubby, dressed in a onesie that said “Daddy’s Boss”—to look up at him with wide, delighted blue eyes and immediately fling her slobbery teething ring straight at his chest.

Davey caught it, reflexes sharp as ever, but he was stunned enough that he nearly dropped the damn thing.

Cade, for his part, didn’t even blink. Just wiped drool off Nova’s chin with one hand while lifting his coffee to his lips with the other, scanning the room like he expected a sniper to take the shot the second he let his guard down.

The guy was holding a baby like a pro but looking at his surroundings like a battle-hardened operative. The sheer contrast made Davey’s brain short-circuit for a second.

“The hell is this?” Davey finally muttered, lowering the teething ring.

Cade barely glanced at him. “It’s called breakfast.” He tore another piece off the croissant and held it up for Nova. She grabbed it with a tiny fist, immediately stuffing it into her mouth.

Davey didn’t sit. He didn’t want to get comfortable. He wanted to get to the point. “You could’ve picked anywhere. Why here?”

“Because I don’t trust you enough to meet without witnesses.”

That shouldn’t have stung. But it did. “When have I ever given you cause not to trust me?”

Nova gurgled happily, but Cade didn’t answer.

Not that Davey actually expected the guy to. He pulled out the thick folder from inside his jacket and dropped it onto the table. It landed between them with a heavy thunk.

Cade didn’t even look at it. “If you came here to accuse me of poisoning Elliot, just fucking say it.”

“Did you?”

Cade finally looked up. His navy blue eyes were like a sheet of glacial ice with something dark and dangerous swimming beneath the surface. He never showed his temper the way others in their family did. No sharp words, no raised voice. Just that cold stillness. “No.”

Davey shoved the folder closer. “Then explain this.”

Cade still didn’t touch it. Didn’t even glance down. Just stared like he was waiting for the punchline to an unfunny joke he already knew.

“Your credentials were used to breach our system. Either you’re the mole, or you’re so sloppy you let someone waltz through your firewalls with your access codes.”

“Watch your tone.”

“I vouched for you, Cade. Told them you wouldn’t betray us.”

“And yet, here we are.”

Davey’s temper snapped, and he slammed his palm on the table. Nova startled, making a small squeak of alarm, and Cade instantly, automatically soothed her. He rubbed gentle circles on her back, but his eyes had gone downright arctic. “Scare her again. I dare you.”

Fuck.

He looked at the baby, who had burrowed into her dad’s side. Her dark blue eyes—Cade’s eyes—watched him warily as she stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Jesus. He needed to get a hold of himself.

He wasn’t usually the kind of guy to lose control like that. Especially not around a baby. “Sorry,” he said, feeling awkward as hell. “I used to be good with kids.”

Cade huffed. “Yeah. Back before you turned into an uptight hardass.”

It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t even sarcastic.

It was just true.

For a moment—just a flicker of a second—it almost felt like old times. Like they were two dumbass kids sneaking beers on the fire escape, arguing over which pizza place was the best in the city, knowing damn well they’d end up at the same hole-in-the-wall they always did. Like summers spent weaving their bikes through Central Park at full speed, trying to see who could cut the sharpest corners without wiping out. Like that one year they both had black eyes at the same time—Cade’s from a fight, Davey’s from an ill-advised attempt to do a backflip off the playground swings.

Like before.

And then it was gone.

Cade’s expression smoothed over, his posture locking back into cold, unreadable calculation. Nova gave a soft whimper, still watching Davey with those same blue eyes he and Cade had both inherited from their grandfather.

Davey pulled out a chair and took a seat, inhaling deeply before he spoke again. “I have a hit out on me,” he said finally, keeping his voice low, controlled. “Elliot nearly died. My team—our family—is compromised. And if you’re involved, I swear to God?—”

Cade’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You’ll do what, exactly? Take me out? Arrest me?”

“If I have to.”

“You’d try.”

Davey gritted his teeth. “Just tell me I didn’t make a mistake vouching for you.”

Nova whimpered softly.

Cade immediately softened, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.”

Davey watched the transformation, torn between disbelief and a grudging admiration. The cold, ruthless operative melting into a tender, protective father in an instant. It was jarring to witness.

Cade reached into the diaper bag at his feet, pulling out a small stuffed elephant. Nova grabbed it eagerly, immediately shoving one of its ears into her mouth.

Only then did Cade’s gaze snap up, ice-cold once more.

“You think I’d put my daughter in danger?” His voice was quiet. Flat. Deadly. “You think I’d sit here, feeding her fucking toast, if I had anything to do with this?”

“I don’t know, Cade.” Davey’s voice was quiet now, too. But it was just as dangerous. “You’ve made it clear how much you resent me.”

That got a reaction.

“Resentment doesn’t make me a traitor. If it did, I would’ve betrayed you a long time ago.” Cade laughed once, sharp and bitter. “You never trusted me after Belgrade, did you?”

And just like that, they weren’t talking about security breaches anymore.

They were talking about the mission. The one that broke them.

Davey exhaled sharply, his pulse spiking at the mention of it. He had spent the last ten years trying to bury that day, but Cade’s words yanked it right back to the surface. His SEAL team had been called in after US intelligence indicated WSW was preparing to extract a high-value defector without full operational clearance. The mission had been Cade’s for six months—his contacts, his planning, his team. And then, at the last second, the U.S. government stepped in, overriding WSW and sending in Davey’s team to “assist” with an operation Cade already had under control.

Only it hadn’t been under control.

Davey had seen the warning signs the second he landed. The extraction point was too exposed, the Serbian paramilitaries too quiet. The whole thing smelled like a setup. He tried to warn Cade. Told him to pull back, reassess, abort if necessary.

But Cade hadn’t listened.

And people had died because of it.

“You ignored my warning,” Davey said evenly.

Cade scoffed. “Your warning? You were barely on the ground a week before that op. You got to walk in at the last second with your orders and your authority, while I was the one who had spent six months laying the groundwork, earning trust, building something real. And then, just like always, you got to be the one they listened to.”

“And I saw what you didn’t,” Davey snapped. “It was a setup.”

Cade shook his head, jaw flexing. “I had reliable intel. It only became a clusterfuck when you and your SEAL buddies stormed in, acting like you were the only ones who knew what the hell you were doing.”

Davey barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “That reliable intel got one of my guys killed.”

“And I lost two of mine. Ours. WSW employees that you never knew before that op because you were never here.” He thumped a finger down on the table for emphasis. “I was. I’ve always been here—working in the trenches, putting in the time, proving myself to a company that never once looked at me the way they looked at you. You were their golden boy, their perfect leader, and I was just the guy who kept the machine running in the background, waiting for a shot I was never going to get.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with old wounds and unspoken accusations. Nova squirmed slightly in Cade’s lap, and he adjusted her without missing a beat, his touch instinctively gentle despite the tension rolling off him.

Davey swallowed back the sharp words sitting on the tip of his tongue. He hadn’t come here to rehash the past, but it was clawing its way up between them anyway.

“You made a bad call,” Davey finally said, his voice quieter now, rougher. “And the uncles stopped trusting you after that.”

Cade’s gaze flickered. “No. You stopped trusting me.”

Davey didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.

Cade exhaled, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached into Nova’s diaper bag.

Davey’s muscles coiled. He knew Cade wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull a weapon here, but instinct still had him preparing for a fight. Instead, Cade pulled out another folder and dropped it onto the table.“A few weeks ago, I noticed my credentials were being used when I wasn’t in the building and started investigating. Thought maybe you were the problem.”

Davey’s gut clenched as he flipped the file open. His blood turned to ice.Cade wasn’t the mole. But someone inside Wilde Security was.

Cade took a slow sip of coffee, his expression unreadable. “You got the wrong fucking cousin.”

“Liam?” he breathed in disbelief. The man who told him earlier today, I’ll back your play no matter what.

Davey felt physically ill. He forced himself to look up, heart hammering. He flipped through the file, scanning the supposed evidence: access logs showing Liam’s credentials used to enter secure areas at odd hours, suspicious bank deposits, and snippets of intercepted messages—out of context but damning enough.

He pushed the file away. “No. No way. Liam wouldn’t?—”

But the words tasted like a lie.

And then?—

Davey felt something ripple along his senses. That tiny, almost imperceptible shift in the air. That instinctual prickle at the back of his neck.

“Get down!” He shoved Cade just as the window shattered. A bullet tore past his shoulder and embedded itself in the wall behind them with a dull thud. Nova let out a piercing wail as Cade turned sharply, tucking her against his chest, his entire body a shield between her and the threat.

Screams filled the café. Patrons scrambled for safety, chairs clattering to the floor. The barista behind the counter ducked out of sight, and a family near the window yanked their children beneath the table.

“Shit. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he rolled behind an overturned table, drawing his weapon in one fluid motion. But a Glock was no good against a fucking long-range rifle. The sniper—he refused to think it was Liam—could still be out there, waiting for people to run out so he could pick them off. “Everyone, stay down! NYPD will be here soon. Stay calm, and don’t move!”

“You better fucking find Liam before I do,” Cade hissed, then he moved low and fast toward the kitchen at the back of the café. Nova was tucked against his chest, her tiny form completely shielded by his bulk.

Davey exhaled hard, relief hitting him in a sharp wave.

Cade and Nova were out of the sniper’s line of sight. That was the only thing that mattered.

For half a second, his shoulders threatened to uncoil. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, his body thrumming with the raw adrenaline of knowing they’d made it to cover. The worst of the danger was past?—

Except it wasn’t.

The relief curdled into ice.

The back door let out into an alley.

A dead end.

Unless Cade planned to break through a solid brick wall, the only way out was right back into the sniper’s line of fire.

Shit.

Davey’s stomach clenched. They weren’t safe. The sniper was still watching, still waiting. If Cade made a move—if anyone made a move—the next shot would be clean.

The civilians in the café were still huddled under tables, their terror thick in the air. Trapped.

Rowan’s voice echoed in his head. “No heroics.”

He almost laughed.

That ship had sailed.

His gut already knew what his brain was trying to catch up to.

He was the target.

Not Cade. Not Nova. Not the barista cowering behind the counter or the young couple whispering prayers beneath an overturned table.

Him.

And if he ran, if he made himself a moving target—he could buy them time.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

This was going to hurt.