Chapter 3

Laziel's POV Dorian and Kaleb popped their heads into the doorway Mireille had just sprinted through. “Nice reunion?” Dorian smirked, his gaze dropping pointedly to the very obvious bulge in my pants. I scowled and adjusted myself. “Shut up.” Kaleb, at least, stayed focused. “Should I follow her?” “Don’t let her out of your sight.” He nodded and disappeared down the hall. Dorian crossed his arms, tilting his head. “I could have followed her.” “I figured that’d be difficult while you’re busy being a smug bastard.” He flopped into the chair in the corner, grinning. “So, the flowers from your Mexican princess aren’t what’s got your tent pitched?” I flicked a glance at the bouquet of roses from Estrella sitting untouched on my desk. I didn’t need to reread the card. The words were already burned into my mind. All the pieces are falling into place. Congratulations. XO, Estrella. She was right. The puzzle was almost complete. My alliance with the Mexicans would be solidified soon, giving me access to their ports along the Eastern Seaboard. Everything was lining up perfectly. Everything except Mireille. A rogue puzzle piece I hadn’t accounted for—one I couldn’t seem to place. “She’s lying about her name,” I muttered. “She’s calling herself Rachel now.” Dorian frowned. “Doesn’t suit her.” “It also doesn’t make sense. Alfred hasn’t made a move since I exiled him. She has no reason to be afraid.” Dorian tilted his head, considering. “Maybe she’s not running from Alfred.” I paused. “You think she’s running from me?” Or worse— “Maybe her father,” he mused. “Don Montanari is a hard-ass. He did sign her up to marry Alfred in the first place.” I dragged a hand down my face. “Then why wouldn’t she just tell me that? She knows I know who she is, but she’s still lying.” And for some reason, it bothered me. More than it should. Dorian smirked. “Why the fuck do you care?” I glared at him. “Because it’s my job to know what’s happening around here. If someone is lying to me, there’s a reason. I want to know what it is.” Dorian raised his hands in surrender. “You haven’t seen this girl in, what, two? Three years?” “Six.” His eyebrows shot up. “Okay. Six years. I just don’t see how she’s relevant to anything we’ve got going on.” That made two of us. That was what I had been telling myself for the last six years. That Mireille didn’t matter. That I had fucked her out of my system and moved on. Except I hadn’t. She was still there—lodged in my chest like a piece of shrapnel I couldn’t claw out, a wound that had never fully closed. Some days, I forgot about it. Others, it ached so badly I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Dorian leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching me like he was trying to pick me apart. “Is this about Estrella?” My jaw tightened. “What does Estrella have to do with anything?” He lifted a brow, unimpressed. “Well, she’s your fiancée, but your balls are blue over some other woman. Call me crazy, but that doesn’t sound like things are healthy at home.” I exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Estrella and I don’t live together.” “Yet,” he pointed out. “But you will. Soon.” All the pieces were falling into place. For me, that meant the ports. Phantom & Co. Power. For Estrella, it was the engagement ring that had slipped onto her finger last week, the diamond she probably stared at every night, thinking it meant something it didn’t. “It’s a political move,” I said flatly. “The Mexicans have the ports. I need the ports. Marrying Estrella gets me the ports.” Dorian gave me a look. “But you hate her.” “I don’t hate her.” Hate would require feeling something for her. And unless she was standing right in front of me, I didn’t think about her at all. “I feel nothing for her,” I clarified. “No feelings mean no mess.” Dorian suddenly gasped and whipped around like someone had just walked in. Instinct kicked in—I dropped my hand to the holster at my hip, ready for whatever was coming. Then he pressed a hand to his heart, exhaling as he sank back into his chair. “Shit, bro. For a second, I thought Alfred was in the room. You sounded just like him.” A sharp, cold anger rose in my chest. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He wasn’t wrong, though. The thought had crossed my mind more than once—whether I was making the same mistake Alfred did. I would never hurt Estrella the way Alfred had hurt Mireille. But I would never love her either. I wouldn’t give her the dream I saw flickering in her eyes every time she looked at me, the one where we ended up happy together. If she hadn’t figured out what I was offering by now, that was her problem. I didn’t have time for feelings. Not hers. Not mine. My phone rang, cutting through the silence. Kaleb’s name lit up the screen. I answered immediately. “You have eyes on her?” “Yeah. I see her.” My grip tightened. “Is she running?” Kaleb hesitated. “I don’t know.” Dorian frowned. “What does that mean? How does he not know?” I put the call on speaker, balancing my phone on my knee. “Is she packing bags? Booking a flight? For fuck’s sake, Kaleb, give me something.” “She’s at an elementary school.” My blood went cold. I sat up straighter. “Can you see what she’s doing?” Mireille had asked if I was married. Maybe she was. Maybe sometime in the last six years, she had settled down. Maybe her sweet, law-abiding husband was an elementary school teacher. I remembered the way her leg had felt wrapped around my hip. The way she had looked at me like I was the only thing she wanted. I decided I’d fight a teacher if I had to. No way he deserved all of that. No one did. No one but me. “She went in a few minutes ago. I haven’t seen anything else yet. I can go inside if you—” Kaleb cut off suddenly. “Shit, there she is.” My pulse kicked up. “What’s happening?” “She almost saw me. But she… she’s with…” His breathing shifted. Car horns blared in the background. Voices murmured. “Kaleb?” I snapped. “What the fuck is going on?” A beat of silence. Then, in a low voice, he said, “Sorry, but she’s with a kid.” Dorian bolted upright. “What?” Kaleb exhaled hard. “I think… I think she’s his mom.” Silence slammed into the room like a gunshot. Dorian snatched my phone. “How old is the kid?” Kaleb exhaled sharply. “Probably six.” Dorian pointed at me, his eyes huge. “Holy shit. Holy shit!” I ripped the phone from his grasp and switched off speakerphone. “Stay on them, Kaleb. Let me know where they’re headed—I’ll meet you there.” I pocketed my phone, but Dorian was still pointing at me, his expression wild. “What?” I snapped. “What could you possibly be thinking? There’s no way I could ever guess what—” “It’s your kid,” he blurted out, grinning like the devil himself. “That is your bastard kid.” “Shut the fuck up.” I grabbed my wallet and headed for the door. “Stay here. Make sure all the paperwork gets filed before the shareholders leave.” “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” he called after me. “I’ll hold down the fort…” For a second, I thought he was done. Then he finished the sentence. “Say hi to my nephew for me!”