Page 54 of Oliver

Tears blurred my vision.

I tried to speak, failed, and then laughed softly. “I don’t have anything poetic. Just... thank you. For finding me when I didn’t know I was lost. For staying when you didn’t have to. For being the man who gave me a reason to dream again. I love you. I choose you. Every time.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

He didn’t wait.

His hands framed my face, and his lips crashed into mine with a mix of hunger and reverence that sent the crowd cheering. Olly whooped. Someone set off fireworks—probably Beatrice.

And just like that, I was Mrs. Oliver Steele.

Later that night…

The wedding was over. The dancing, the wine, the chaos, the joy.

And now?

Now it was time to take care of the man who nearly destroyed all of it.

Because tomorrow morning, the team goes dark.

And we bring the fight to him.

37

Oliver

The wedding was barely twelve hours behind us when Raven knocked on the vineyard cottage door.

“Time to move,” he said simply, holding a manila folder and a face that told me the honeymoon was over.

Emery stood beside me in one of my shirts, hair still tousled from sleep and love making. “You’re leaving?”

I looked at Raven, then back at her. “Not without making a plan. Not this time.”

She crossed her arms. “Good. Because if you think you’re locking me in a tower while you chase the bad people, I will hit you with a wine bottle.”

Raven raised a brow. “Damn, I like her more every day.”

We spread out the folder on the kitchen table. Inside: photos, satellite images, names I recognized from years in Special Forces—and one I didn’t.

“Anthony Vale,” Raven said, tapping the photo of a sharp-jawed man with dead eyes. “Private contractor. Former CIA asset turned black-market middleman. He was running weapons and dirty intelligence through that facility in southern Europe. The same one where Emery was training.”

Emery’s face paled. “He’s the one who gave the order to have me taken.”

I pulled her into my side. “He’s not getting away with it.”

Raven leaned in. “He doesn’t know we’ve got him cold yet. That video file—the one Emery’s name was tagged on? It’s being used to build a federal case. But it’s slow. Quiet. The kind of quiet that gets people killed.”

“I’m not sitting still while he slips away,” I said.

“You won’t have to.” Raven grinned. “We’re going to force his hand. We bait him.”

Emery straightened. “Use me.”

I turned to her, heart stopping. “Are you fucking crazy? Absolutely not.”

“Oliver—”

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