Page 45 of Silence and Surrender

“Good. Get it done quickly. And Rodger?” Reznikov’s voice grew colder. “Remember what happened to the last person who cost me money. No more mistakes. And get that art authenticator who’s making trouble out of the way.”

The footsteps moved away. The corridor lights clicked off.

We sat in silence, my heart hammering against Colton’s chest. His arms tightened around me, strong and protective.

“Bella.” The nickname emerged rough with emotion. “I won’t let them hurt you. Ever.”

I drew back enough to see his face in the dim emergency lights. Saw the determination there. The fury.

This time when he kissed me, it was filled with everything we couldn’t say. His hands tangled in my hair as he took control, his mouth claiming mine with a thoroughness that made me forget everything else—the cold, the danger, my old fears. The terrifying conversation we’d just overheard.

When we finally separated, his eyes were dark with more than shadow.

“We should check if they’re gone,” I murmured.

“Yes.” But he didn’t release me. “Isabella...”

“I know.” I touched his face, feeling the tension in his jaw. “But we must stop their operation. Whatever they’re running through Dubai...”

I could practically feel his sigh. “We will. But carefully.”

“Your signature approach?”

“No.” His voice hardened. “Like people who know exactly what kind of monsters we’re dealing with. And now we know just how far their network extends.”

Fifteen minutes later, when we were sure the building was empty, I used my override codes to open the vault. The corridor was dark, silent. My claustrophobia eased the moment fresh air hit my face.

But as we walked to his car, his hand stayed at the small of my back. Protective. Possessive. Ready.

We had proof now, empty vaults and overheard conversations. Evidence of new trafficking routes and failed operations.

The question was: what would we do with it?

Colton’s hand tightened on my back, as if he could read my thoughts. As if he was already planning our next move.

I just hoped it would be enough.

Chapter Twenty

Colton

I had dreamt of Isabella the entire night. I couldn’t get her out of my head—how beautiful she looked in the vault, trembling against me, using me for comfort.

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, steam from the shower fogging the edges. My mind kept drifting to Isabella in the vault. How she’d tasted of expensive coffee and determination. How different it had been from everything I knew. Just her mouth under mine, fierce and real and demanding everything I’d spent years avoiding.

For the past five years, I’d kept things simple. The routine had become as familiar to me as my morning shave—precise, controlled, satisfying in a purely physical way.

But Isabella...

My hands stilled on my tie as I remembered how she’d felt pressed against me in that vault. The soft sounds she’d made when I kissed her. The way she’d looked at me after, like she saw straight through every defense I’d constructed.

My phone went off with a message from Cooper:Heard you’re attending Ashworth tonight. Careful, brother.

A second later:And stop brooding.

“I don’t brood,” I muttered, though I was quite literally doing exactly that.

I moved through my Saturday routine mechanically, but everything felt different. The tuxedo I pulled from my closet wasn’t a costume anymore, it was anticipation. Each time my phone lit up, I hoped to see her name. Even my coffee tasted different, richer somehow, like her presence in my life had awakened senses I’d deliberately dulled.

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