Page 38 of With this Ring (Mastered #7)

Nadia knocked once before entering Sasha’s office, a stack of mail balanced in her hands. Unlike Ashley, who would have breezed in humming under her breath, Nadia moved with quiet efficiency—competent but reserved.

“Just these for you today,” she said, dropping a small stack in front of Sasha.

The envelope on top was from Hawkeye Security.

Sasha tightened her grip on her coffee mug—the one that had started this whole mess. The ceramic was cool against her palm now, the coffee long since forgotten as she’d lost herself in memories of Gregorio.

Three weeks of silence stretched between them. No calls. No texts. Not even a message passed through Hawkeye or Damien. Just emptiness in her life where his commanding presence should have been.

She wasn’t even sure what she’d expected from him anymore.

A goodbye, maybe. Some acknowledgment of what they’d been to each other in those intense days—the way he’d claimed her body and soul, the way she’d surrendered everything to him, the way he’d sworn she belonged to him.

And the way he might have taken a bullet meant for her without hesitation.

And more…the way she’d fallen hopelessly, irretrievably in love with him.

“Do you need anything else?” Nadia asked, hovering by the desk. There was genuine concern in her eyes, even if she wasn’t sure how to express it. She’d started right after Ashley’s death, walking into an office heavy with grief and unspoken tension.

Sasha shook her head, forcing a small smile. “No, thanks.”

“I’ll be cleaning off my desk, then heading out for the night.”

“Enjoy your evening.” Since she’d arrived an hour before dawn, she should consider leaving, as well.

Nadia closed the door behind her with a soft click.

The Pathways office felt different now, more subdued. Ashley had filled the rooms with life—humming while she worked, trading playful barbs, knowing exactly when Sasha needed coffee or a sympathetic ear. Now there was just…space. Empty space where Ashley should have been, would never be again.

After Sasha had left the hospital, Hawkeye had updated her about the woman’s betrayal and death.

According to her journal, someone at Argentum had gotten to her and threatened her boyfriend’s life if she didn’t provide information and put the tracker on Sasha’s car.

As a warning, they’d gone as far as to jump him after work one night, injuring him badly enough that an ambulance had to take him to the emergency room.

Despite that, Ashley had tried in her own way to warn Sasha, moving her coffee cup, letting her know that things weren’t normal.

Her body, riddled with gunshot wounds, had been found the next day.

Though Sasha hated that it had happened, she wasn’t entirely sure she blamed Ashley for her choices.

Sasha knew she would do anything to protect the people she loved.

Even now, knowing how deep the betrayal ran, she wanted Ashley back.

Sighing, dragging herself back to the present, Sasha reached for the delivery from Hawkeye.

She already knew what it contained—the astronomical bill that Inamorata had promised, for the services of the agents who’d saved their lives, the investigation assistance, surveillance, taking care of Brenda Santos, the use of the safehouse, running interference with authorities…

She’d been dreading this moment, wondering how she’d manage to keep her business afloat while paying it off.

Even though technically the invoice should be charged to the Santos account, she knew the couple didn’t have the resources to pay—even if she could find them ever again.

Their house had been abandoned, and they had both vanished as if they’d never existed.

Which told her they had most likely been placed in witness protection.

Because she’d been concerned, she’d found Brenda’s sister and contacted her.

The woman swore she knew nothing at all about her sibling’s whereabouts.

Sasha would never know how things had been resolved. She hoped they were together and safe. If they helped to bring down Argentum, maybe the cost would have been worth it.

Then again, maybe not.

The paper crinkled as she tore it open.

With a breath, steadying herself for the blow, she glanced at the bottom line.

Zero.

Her heart missed a beat, then began to race. She smoothed the paper flat, certain she was missing something, some joke or mistake. But there it was in black and white— Paid in full .

And below that, a single name that made her chest constrict painfully. Gregorio Conti.

The edges of the paper blurred as tears threatened. Of course. Of course he would do this—settle accounts, tie up loose ends, make sure she was taken care of before disappearing completely. It was so perfectly, infuriatingly Gregorio that it made her want to scream.

“He loves you, Sasha,” her mother had continued to insist, just last weekend when she’d dropped by the restaurant.

Sasha had been tired of her own company, tired of grieving, going through the motions of living. Mostly, she’d been exhausted from loneliness.

In the kitchen, while making tiramisu, Rosa had reached over and patted Sasha’s hand. “I know he does. You have to trust that. And the nice Damien man.”

Who’d told her to give Gregorio some space, let him realize how badly he’d fucked up.

Since Damien knew his friend probably better than anyone on the planet, she’d listened to him.

Had that been a mistake?

Her mother had said to fight for him, and that’s what she’d vowed to do. This form of fighting just tore her heart to pieces. “I just wish I could believe it will all work out.” Either that or she’d somehow have to find the courage to move on without him.

She mentally scoffed. As if she was capable of doing that while she was broken inside.

“Some men aren’t sure what to do with a good woman. We can be terrifying.” She’d smiled. “They run before they can get hurt. Or before they can hurt anyone else.”

Armed with to-go boxes of lasagna and desserts, along with a generous serving of encouragement, Sasha had left the restaurant, clinging to a thread of hope that everyone was right. Gregorio needed time.

But every minute that passed seemed like an awful, drawn-out goodbye. A closure she hadn’t asked for and didn’t want.

A sharp knock jolted her from her spiraling thoughts.

“You have a visitor,” Nadia said as she entered Sasha’s office. Her eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown as she looked back toward the reception area.

Sasha barely glanced up, still lost in the ache spreading through her chest. “Who?” A new client, maybe?

“He wouldn’t say.”

Instinctively, Sasha curled her fingers around the chair’s armrests. And then—

The world stopped turning.

Gregorio filled the doorway like a storm rolling in from the mountains. He looked devastating—unshaven, his usual immaculate appearance replaced by exhaustion and a desperation in his gaze that was raw, almost feral.

The arms of his T-shirt didn’t bulge like normal, and he’d tightened his belt another notch.

He was pale, gaunt.

But it was the cane that broke her heart—the visible reminder of how close she’d come to losing him forever. Of the sacrifice he’d made to keep her safe.

Their eyes met across the space between them, and the air crackled with everything left unsaid. She could see the struggle in his face, the war between duty and desire that had haunted him since that first explosive kiss in the janitor’s closet at her friend’s wedding.

He scrubbed a hand over his scalp—a gesture so unlike his usual control that it made her breath catch. His fingers trembled slightly.

Aware of Nadia watching them with uncertainty, Sasha summoned a half-smile. It was the best she could do. “Thank you. I’ve got it from here.”

“Are you sure? I can stay.”

“I’ll be fine.” When Nadia remained in place, Sasha reassured her. “Really.”

After shooting Gregorio a warning scowl, she moved around him, leaving Sasha alone with the man who’d broken her heart.

“I’m an idiot,” he said finally, his voice rough with emotion.

A wry, disbelieving breath escaped her. “Yeah,” she murmured, the word carrying all the hurt and hope of the past weeks. You are . “I’d say that tracks.”

With careful, measured steps, Gregorio moved into her office. The soft tap of his cane against her hardwood floors echoed like a metronome, marking each moment that brought him closer.

Even wounded, he carried himself with that predatory grace that had first captivated her, though she could see the cost in the tight line of his jaw, the way his knuckles whitened around the cane’s handle.

“I tried to do the right thing,” he said, his voice carrying that same raw edge that had been there in the hospital. “Stay away from you and leave you alone. To give you the chance at a normal life, without complications. Without me.”

The words hit her like physical blows.

Fighting for control, she curled her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palms. “The right thing?” She was proud that her voice remained steady despite the tremor running through her.

“According to who? Yourself? This is about my life, too, Gregorio. And you didn’t even ask me what I wanted. What I needed.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, and she saw the moment her words landed. The mighty Gregorio—warrior, protector, the man who’d faced down death without flinching—looked utterly lost.

“I thought…” He stopped, seemed to gather himself. “Damien told me to stop running. Told me to look in the damn mirror and see what I was really doing.” His laugh was self-deprecating, bitter. “Said I was sacrificing myself to the point there’d be nothing left to give.”

God bless Damien for being right. “And did you?” she pressed. “Look in that mirror?”

His lips formed a thin line as he nodded. The silence stretched between them, filled with the steady ticking of the clock on her wall, the distant hum of Denver traffic below. Above all that, Sasha heard the thunder of her own heartbeat, echoing through her ears.