Of course, since Smoke and I are in his private residence, it was oh-so-wise of us to leave Ivy completely alone. In Smoke’s private office. From which, of course, she is now missing.
“Shit.” Can this day get any fucking worse?
Sucking in a long breath through my nose, I let out my frustration and reach for my phone, ready to tap into the security cameras that cover the estate’s twenty-some rooms, twelve baths, hallways, kitchen, foyer, and forty square acres of land. The feeds come up, but I don’t need them. It only takes a second to realize the back door is cracked open.
As soon as I step outside, I see them. In the distance is Ivy, dangerously close to Trinity. Watching Ivy wade in the knee-high water is confusing. But when she pulls Trinity in, shoes and all, confusion gives way to outright panic.
I’ve spent too many hours of the last four years protecting her. The thought of failing now turns my blood to ice. Feet pounding and Glock drawn, there’s no room for rational thought. I’m at the mercy of a decade of military training and the vow I made to Antonio D’Angelo.
Weapon in hand, I approach. “Step away from her.”
Panic flashes across Ivy’s expression, and for a second, all I see is her face last night.
Across from me. Under me. Filled with me. And fuck, I freeze.
In the next second, Trinity steps between the two of us, knee-deep in the small pond. Instantly, I lower my weapon, prepared to destroy any progress Trinity and I have made over the past four years by yanking her out to keep her safe. Instead, she steps forward, leading with a soft smile.
“It’s all right, Leo,” she says, holding a baby swan high in her hands. And I’m at a loss.
Did Trinity speak to me?
Stunned, I’m struggling to form a coherent sentence as Ivy helps her out of the water.
“You can put it away,” she says so softly, my only response is to comply. So, I do, holstering my weapon as I stare at her in absolute disbelief.
Sure, I’ve heard her speak, but only with the limited number of words required. And never, not once, has she spoken to me. Not since before the attack, which has been a lifetime of wondering if she would ever be all right. She sounds all right, and the relief that fills me chokes me up. A telltale prickle starts behind my eyes.
Heavy footsteps approach. Smoke.
The single sniffle that comes from me is completely unexpected. “Allergies,” I blurt before clearing my throat.
Smoke steps up to me, assessing me because there’s a full-grown man a millisecond from openly weeping on his lawn. His scrutinizing glance passes to each of us, finally landing on Trinity. “Trini? Everything all right?”
She wraps an arm tight against her brother while cooing at the little swan. “We rescued her.” Just like with me, as soon as she speaks, her small act of normalcy shakes him. He hugs her back, hard, and kisses the top of her head.
“I’m so glad that Ivy will be here,” Trinity says softly.
His head swings up, and the weight of his heated glare lands squarely on me. I shrug as innocently as I can, a move that makes the angry vein in his forehead bulge to a point that it’s seconds from bursting.
Just as she did by stepping between me and Ivy, Trinity protects me, her slim fingers smoothing Smoke’s cheek. “Hey. Leo had nothing to do with this. I figured if you’re picking out an assistant for me, I’d have the final say. And I choose Ivy.”
Under his breath, Smoke speaks with pain in his words. “I can’t promise that yet.”
“Why not?” Trinity asks simply as if she’s merely rebuffing an argument for Chinese takeout.
“Yes,” Ivy says, suddenly confident and ballsy. She even has the audacity to cross her arms stubbornly over her chest. Which I’m now staring at. “Why not?”
I should be doing my job, separating the D’Angelos from a woman whose charms seem to be working on everyone around her. Even me.
Smoke looks at me, and I look at him, because what can we do? The two women pit themselves together against us, and they’re freaking adorable.
I shake off Ivy’s powerful voodoo spell. “We’re not making any decisions immediately,” I say, hoping to defuse whatever the hell’s going on and get Ivy off the property. At least for today. “We still have a long list of candidates to interview, and it’s in everyone’s best interest to see the process through.”
“But—” Trinity’s objection barely hits the air before Ivy interrupts her.
“It’s all right.” Ivy strokes Trinity’s arm, and they exchange a glance that doesn’t make sense. Like two people who’ve known each other a lot longer than a few minutes at most, sending and receiving secret pieces of code. “Mr. Zamparelli is right. You have my contact information. I’ll see myself out.”
“That’s not how this works, Ms. Palmer,” I say firmly. “I’ll escort you out.”
But before Ivy can step away, Trinity pulls her into a hug so tight, I’m not entirely positive she intends to let her go. It’s apparent Smoke and I have missed something important and big, and it’s also apparent that whatever it was is staying between the two of them.
Ivy’s whisper isn’t low enough to prevent us from hearing. “It’s okay. They’re just looking out for you.”
Exactly. Thank you. Even Ivy—a woman who’s one big avalanche of suspicious activity—clearly sees that everything we do is for Trinity’s own good.
Eventually, Trinity lets go, leaving me to deal with Ivy’s cold shoulder.
Frowning, Ivy brushes past me, and I don’t blame her. Pulling a gun on her first thing the morning after wasn’t exactly the best way to score points, but at least now she knows exactly where I stand on everything.
I vowed long ago that I’d protect the D’Angelos with my last fucking breath, and I will. Even from her.