Page 119 of Silence and Surrender

“Cooper had specialists check the foundation and roof,” Colton continued, swiping to show more angles of the space. “Both solid. The previous owner was a sculptor, so the floor is reinforced with concrete under those wooden planks. There’s proper ventilation, water lines already in place. It would need updated electrical, but—”

I silenced him with a kiss, unable to contain the emotion swelling in my chest. His surprise lasted only a moment before he responded, the tablet forgotten as his hand came up to cradle my face.

When we parted, his eyes searched mine. “You like it, then?”

“It’s everything I didn’t know to ask for,” I said honestly. “It’s...” I struggled to find words adequate to explain what his planning meant to me. “It’s home, Colton. You’ve found us a home.”

Something in his posture eased, as if he’d been carrying additional tension I hadn’t recognized until it released. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to leave London entirely,” he admitted. “Your career, your connections—”

“Were compromised the moment they took me,” I finished for him. “I’ve known there was no going back, not really. The art world I inhabited here is...” I hesitated, trying to articulate the shift I’d felt since my rescue. “It’s part of a past I’m ready to leave behind.”

He nodded, understanding without requiring further explanation. One of the many gifts of this complicated man I’d married was his ability to read between words, to comprehend what remained unspoken.

“When?” I asked, returning to practical matters. “How soon after the operation could we move?”

“The paperwork is already prepared,” he said, and I raised an eyebrow at this example of his meticulous planning. “The sale can be completed within a week of signing. Stryker’s team would handle security upgrades immediately. Basic renovations to make the main house habitable within a month. More extensive work could be done after we’ve moved in.”

“A month,” I repeated, letting the timeframe settle.

“Too soon?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “We could stay in London longer if you prefer, or at Cooper’s villa while the renovations—”

“No,” I interrupted, squeezing his hand. “Not too soon. Perfect timing, actually.” I guided his palm to where one of the twins was fluttering. “They’ll be here in about five months. I’d rather be settled before they arrive.”

His expression softened. “Five more months,” he murmured, love evident in his voice. “Sometimes I still can’t believe...”

“I know,” I said quietly. “After everything, to have this...” My throat tightened with emotion I couldn’t fully express. “It feels impossible.”

“Not impossible,” he said. “Just...fought for. Earned.”

I leaned into him, drawing strength from his solid presence. “One more day,” I whispered. “Then we can start building this future you’ve imagined.”

“That we’ve imagined,” he said, his arm coming around my shoulders. “I just found the location. The rest—what makes it home—that’s something we create together.”

We sat in companionable silence for several minutes, the distant hum of surveillance equipment the only sound. In less than twenty-four hours, everything would change. Rotterdam. The bank. Rodger. All the careful plans we’d made would be set in motion, for better or worse.

“Show me the boys’ rooms,” I said eventually, nodding toward the tablet. “I want to see where our sons will grow up.”

His smile was immediate and genuine, rare enough that each appearance felt like a gift. He retrieved the tablet, finding images of spacious bedrooms with vaulted ceilings and windows overlooking the countryside.

“I think we should remodel so they have connecting rooms,” he explained, pointing to a floor plan. “A shared door between separate spaces. Room for independence but always access to each other.”

“Like you and Cooper had,” I observed.

“Yes.” Something wistful crossed his features. “Though hopefully with fewer midnight escapes through windows.”

I laughed, the sound surprising me with its lightness. “I wouldn’t count on that. Not with Moreau blood.”

“Troublemakers from birth,” he agreed, his tone rich with affection rather than concern. “Though we’ll have more security than our parents ever dreamed of.”

“Stryker’s already planning the system, isn’t he?” I guessed, recognizing the particular satisfaction Colton displayed when operations aligned perfectly.

“Complete coverage without visible intrusion,” he confirmed. “Cooper insisted on paying for that as a...housewarming gift, I believe was his phrasing.”

“Of course he did,” I said, unsurprised. “Allegra must be thrilled we’ll be nearby.”

“Ecstatic,” Colton admitted. “Though I’ve forbidden her from decorating the nursery. There are limits to family involvement.”

The casual use of ‘family’ still caught me by surprise sometimes; the easy inclusion, the assumption of permanence. After years of careful independence, of holding myself separate from attachments that could be used against me, the embrace of Cooper and Allegra into our lives felt amazing.

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