“It was so perfect,” Andrew grinned, chewing noisily on his hamburger. “I walked up to him, told him I just wanted to say hi. He didn’t even suspect a thing. You’d better respect me, huh?” He glanced at Solomon, who sat in the back seat with Sadie’s head resting on his shoulder.Solomon didn’t answer.That rude bastard, Andrew thought. He had no idea how much someone else would’ve paid me for this job.What’s that saying again? Or is it a quote? You never know what you’re capable of until you’re in danger?“When are you going to call him?” Andrew asked. “I can give you some advice if you want. Like in those mafia movies—the best time to call is when her hands are tied. You make a video call and go—”He raised his hamburger like a gun.“‘Your money or her life,’” he said dramatically. Then, smirking, “If you weren’t so rude to me, I’d have taught you how to do it properly. But it seems you don’t want it.”“Have you called the

Charles was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temple as he drove back to the restaurant where they were supposed to have their double date.His men had warned him moments ago — Sadie would wake in five minutes. The spray they’d used was mild, just enough to keep her under for fifteen minutes.That damn bastard.He parked the car and quickly switched on the AC, trying to calm his own pulse.He’d barely caught his breath when Sadie stirred beside him. Charles froze, eyes on her.She blinked groggily, her lashes fluttering as she took in his face. “What happened?” she murmured, voice thick with dizziness. She tried to sit up, scanning the car like she didn’t recognize it.“What happened? How?” Charles echoed, forcing a small, confused smile — trying hard to sound casual, to hide the chaos behind his heartbeat. He prayed she wouldn’t notice anything strange. He wasn’t ready to tell her a damn thing.“When did we get here?” she asked, turning to him. “Did I fall asleep?”“Obviously,”

Mr. Wyatt had his hands in his pockets as he pretended to watch the kids playing on the field. He’d come out for some sort of “community service.” You’ve got to get your name on the news for some good deed, right?And of course, he had to bring his wife. On screen, the average New Yorker would imagine the perfect married life — Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt, thirty years together, still “falling in love” with each other, growing stronger, blah blah. You’ve got to feed the masses the fairytale.“You need to talk to your daughter,” Mr. Wyatt said, his eyes still fixed on the children playing on the swing set he’d donated to the orphanage.“We talk almost every day,” Marie replied evenly.“You know what I’m talking about, Marie.” His tone tightened, voice low, controlled.“Maybe you should explain more. I didn’t study mind reading,” she said coolly.“That man she’s been hanging around with — I don’t want to see him near her again.”“Then talk to him.”“Marie?” Mr. Wyatt snapped.“Hello, good aftern

Lauren opened the door the moment the bell rang.Hardin stood there, holding up a pizza box like it was a peace offering.“Pizza,” he said, smiling.“What do you want?” Her voice was clipped, defensive. She was trying hard not to show how much she’d missed him.“I thought we could have some.”“And why would we do that together, Hardin? We’re not dating.”He stepped inside before she could stop him. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about the other time.”Lauren’s jaw tightened. “What do you want from me?!” The words came out sharper than she meant. She hated that her heart was racing. Hated that he still had this effect on her.“I told you I love you,” Hardin said quietly. “If you’d just say yes… if you’d just let us try—everything could be better.”“Get out,” she said weakly. “Before I call the cops.”He finally looked at her—really looked at her—and sighed. “I’m sorry. For the other day. I shouldn’t

Thomas shot Charles a glare. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m going to be a father. My kid is going to call me Daddy. I’ll tuck him in bed at night—” “Wait.” Charles raised a brow. “Him? Don’t you think you’re running faster than your shadow?” “I want a boy.” “Why would you want a boy?” “Why won’t I want a boy?” Thomas fired back. “Do you know how scary it is to raise a girl? I’d have to set curfews, monitor her every move, make sure she doesn’t talk to bad guys like you—and what am I even saying? I have to make sure she doesn’t even know you, because you’re too twisted.” Charles smirked. “Nice compliment, huh?” “I’m serious. A boy first. Then later—if I survive the first one—maybe a girl. She’d have an older brother to protect her when I’m not around.” Charles tilted his head, suppressing a grin. “Why am I getting the feeling Avery’s going to have twin girls?” “Shut