Page 21 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“We’re not alone.” The ferocity in his gaze burns with bicolored flames as he presses into me, sandwiching me against Kody.

“There’s no need for alarm.” Monty breezes past us, gesturing vaguely into the shadows. “It’s my security team.”

“What security team?” I run a hand down Leo’s stiff spine, trying to relax him.

“After the video…” Monty turns back to face us, raindrops clinging to his black lashes. “Seeing Denver sitting in our house, I took no chances and hired the team before we left the lawyer’s office.” His gaze locks with mine. “To ensure your safety.”

“You didn’t think to mention this before?” Leo squints into the rain, the droplets drumming a relentless beat against the path, echoing my racing heart.

“I wanted to tell you when we arrived, Frankie.” His eyes darken with regret and longing, a silent apology hanging between us. He starts to move forward, an impulse stopped by his better judgment. “One less thing for you to worry about.”

His restraint hits hard, reminding me of everything we’ve lost, of every wound not yet healed.

“Thank you.” I squeeze Kody’s hand.

He squeezes back. “Let’s keep moving then. The sooner we’re inside, the better.”

Monty takes the lead, his back straight despite the tension in his shoulders.

His concern is evident, his actions respectful, yet the distance between us feels awful. Even if I’m the one enforcing that distance.

As we approach the grand doors, the sense of foreboding grows, but so does my resolve.

Leo glances over his shoulder one last time before we maneuver inside, his profile chiseled with sharp lines. His hand shifts to rest on my lower back, guiding me in. Kody’s grip on my fingers never wavers.

Warmth greets us at the threshold, our footsteps loud in the vast foyer, making the space feel empty despite its opulence.

We shed our wet coats, hanging them in the entryway.

“I’ll introduce you to the security team later.” Monty strides ahead toward the kitchen. “For tonight, make yourselves at home. There’s plenty of food. Frankie and I can show you around in the morning.”

“I’ll start now.” Leo takes off, charging through the main sitting room, his untamed physique casting a beastly shadow against the elaborate decor.

His braided hair, wild and drenched, clings to his rugged face as he opens every door he passes—closets, cabinets, even peering behind curtains and framed art.

Veins stand out on Monty’s neck, his jaw clenched. He’s not thrilled with Leo’s invasion of privacy, but when our eyes connect, he says, “Let him explore.”

Oh, Leo’s not exploring. He’s hunting for cameras, secret spy holes, implements of torture, anything to confirm his suspicions about Monty’s true intentions.

We trail behind him, drifting from room to room, water dripping from our clothes and forming a path on the polished floors.

The estate looks exactly how I left it, spotlessly maintained as if a full staff lives here. But Monty is too private for that. The chef, housekeeper, primary chauffeur, and landscaper don’t reside on his island.

He always lived alone.

Until me.

In the dim glow of the hallway, he stands like one of his many sculptures, carved from mystery, old money, and power, his presence as commanding as a tsar in his imperial palace.

“When was the last time you were home?” I watch Kody wander the room, his interest piqued by the Soviet-era statues.

“Months.”

Because he was looking for me.

After he cheated on me.

The agony of his betrayal surges anew, tangled with a grudging gratitude for his search.

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