Page 122 of Silence and Surrender

The clock on the nightstand showed just past midnight. I sat in bed, the sound of Isabella’s even breathing comforting as she slept beside me. I watched her for several minutes, memorizing the peaceful curve of her lips, the way her hand rested protectively over her stomach even in sleep.

I slipped from the bed with practiced silence, careful not to disturb her. Pregnancy exhaustion had finally overcome her determination to review every surveillance feed one last time. After our lovemaking, she’d fallen into a deep sleep that I refused to interrupt, especially on this night when rest was the greatest gift I could offer.

I pulled on a pair of sweats and moved quietly to the study, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar to hear her if she stirred. The ultrasound images were now scattered across my desk—concrete evidence of the miracle growing beneath Isabella’s heart.

Twins. Two sons. Two brothers who would share blood and bone and breath like Cooper and me.

I checked my watch; it wasn’t too late to call. Cooper had taken Steele’s jet back to Italy this afternoon. He would likely be reviewing security for tomorrow’s operation or coordinating with Steele’s teams. I hesitated only briefly before calling his cell phone on our secure line.

Cooper answered immediately, his voice tense with anticipation.

“Is everything on schedule?” he asked without preamble, pure tactical focus in each word.

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice low despite the soundproofing Stryker had installed in the study. “The final pieces are in place. Sari confirmed the shipment details. Interpol teams are prepared for coordinated raids.”

“Good.” I could hear him shifting papers, probably reviewing operational maps. “Our team will be in position at the Rotterdam facility by 0400. Steele’s people are already establishing the perimeter.”

“That’s not why I called,” I said, watching the cars on the street below through the darkened windows.

A pause, then with characteristic perception: “Isabella?”

“She’s asleep,” I said, glancing toward the bedroom. “Finally resting before tomorrow.”

“And you’re not,” Cooper observed, not a question but an understanding. “Pre-operation jitters?”

I almost smiled at the familiar teasing. Despite everything, despite the danger surrounding us, some patterns between brothers never changed.

“Not jitters,” I corrected, settling into my desk chair. “Just...I needed to tell you something. Before tomorrow.”

“I’m listening.” His tone shifted, the tactical commander giving way to my brother.

I drew a deep breath, surprising myself with how difficult it was to say the words aloud.

“It’s twins. Both boys.”

The silence that followed was profound. I could hear Cooper’s breathing change through the encrypted connection. When he spoke again, his voice carried something I rarely heard from my irreverent brother—raw emotion.

“Like us,” he said quietly.

“Yes.” I picked up one of the ultrasound images, studying the grey shapes that would become my sons. “Doctor Eisenberg came out today. Which is why I had you cover for me.”

“You’re worried,” Cooper said, understanding immediately. “About tomorrow.”

I didn’t deny it. Cooper knew me too well for such pretense.

“If anything happens to me tomorrow—”

“Don’t start,” Cooper cut me off, his voice hardening. “Nothing is happening to you. The plan is solid. The teams are ready. You’ve calculated every variable.”

“There are always unknown factors,” I countered, legal training asserting itself even now. “Rodger is desperate. Desperate men make unpredictable moves.”

“And prepared men anticipate them,” Cooper replied firmly. “You’re more than prepared, Colton. You’re not the same man who left London months ago. Stryker says your combat skills have progressed remarkably.”

“It’s not about combat skills,” I said, though the assessment was gratifying. “It’s about what happens after. If everything goes as planned, if we dismantle the entire network...” I paused, searching for words. “I need to know that if something happens to me, Isabella and the boys will be taken care of.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Cooper repeated, but I heard the shift in his tone. He understood what I was really asking. “But yes, Colton. You know the answer is yes. They’re family. My nephews. Isabella is as much my sister as Allegra is yours.”

“And the Tuscany property?” I pressed, needing absolute certainty. “The paperwork—”

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