Page 117 of Silence and Surrender

I covered his hand where it rested on my stomach. “Like you and Cooper?”

“Yes.” He watched London through the penthouse windows, a rare burst of sun peeking through the clouds. “We were always connected. Always knowing when the other was in danger. Always protecting each other. When Allegra was in danger…that was when I killed my first man. And I did it for Cooper, even though the guilt ate away at me for a year. But Allegra was his world. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

His face turned to my stomach, awe still apparent in his face. “And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. For you.”

I thought of our sons growing together as their father and uncle had. Already sharing blood and space and life. Already learning to survive.

“Does Cooper know?” I asked. “About the appointment today?”

“No.” Colton’s smile was brief. “He didn’t ask why I needed the cover. I’m guessing he assumed, but I wanted us to have this moment first. Just us.”

“He’ll be insufferable,” I murmured. “The twins continuing the family legacy.”

“He’ll be worse than insufferable.” But affection colored his words. “Allegra will have to physically restrain him from buying out every baby store in Tuscany.”

The thought of our future—of a world beyond danger and deception—made my throat tight. “When this is over...”

“When this is over,” he said softly, “we raise our sons somewhere safe. Somewhere with vineyards and olive groves and warmth.”

“Tuscany.” I leaned against him, taking comfort in his solid warmth. “Near the villa.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what we need,” I corrected.

His phone buzzed again, another warning. “Rodger moved the meeting up. I need to get back.”

Reality settled cold and heavy between us. “Go. Maintain our cover.”

He pulled me close, his hard chest providing a safe haven. “Thursday,” he promised. “Thursday, we end this. All of it.” He pressed a kiss to my temple before straightening his tie. “Be safe, my beautiful masterpiece.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Isabella

Night had fallen over London, casting the penthouse in shadow and the soft blue glow of surveillance monitors. Rain tapped against the windows like impatient fingers. Less than twenty-four hours remained before the Rotterdam operation—what we’d spent months planning and preparing for.

I stood by the window, one hand absently tracing patterns over my stomach where I thought I’d detected some tiny fluttering. The ultrasound images were still on the coffee table where we’d been studying them for hours. Two sons. Two brothers. Two lives that had changed everything about our mission.

Colton moved quietly behind me, his reflection appearing in the darkened glass. He carried two steaming mugs of the herbal tea Doctor Eisenberg had recommended for my iron levels. His suit jacket and tie were gone, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows—small concessions to comfort in a man perpetually armored against the world.

“You should be resting,” he said, handing me one of the mugs. His free hand settled at the small of my back, warmth radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt that I’d taken to wearing.

“I was thinking,” I replied, letting my weight lean slightly against him. “About after. When this is over.”

He made a soft, questioning sound, eyes meeting mine in our reflected image against London’s night sky.

“These past weeks of planning...” I took a careful sip of the tea, grateful for its earthy warmth. “We’ve been so focused on the operation, on taking down the network, that we’ve barely discussed what comes next.”

“After,” he repeated, the word carrying the weight of possibility. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

I turned to face him properly, fighting the urge to kissing him. “Have you?”

The smile that touched his lips was different than the fierce joy I’d glimpsed during our time in Tuscany. This was something quieter, more certain.

“I’ve been looking at properties,” he admitted, guiding me toward the couch, away from the window’s exposure. “Near Cooper and Allegra. Nothing as ostentatious as the villa, but...” He paused, waiting until I’d settled comfortably against the cushions. “Land. Space. Security. A place where our sons could grow up without shadows.”

Something tightened in my chest—the recognition of dreams I hadn’t dared voice taking concrete form at his words.

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