Page 16 of Nemesis
Following the surgery, they’d transferred her to the ICU for monitoring until she would be deemed stable enough for us to move her into a more secure location where our own medical staff would be able to keep an eye on her through her recovery.
When the anesthesia had worn off, she’d been in such a panicked state that she wouldn’t settle down unless, surprisingly, I had been in the room with her.
A few days following the surgery, our deputy director had paid her a visit to introduce the assigned agent who would’ve become her guardian in the witness protection program, but she’d refused to go under protective custody unless I was the one to do it.
Despite being the lead on another case, the bureau had tasked me with protecting her since I’d be able to continue my surveillance remotely.
I hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of my field work being paused, but something about needing her to be safe made me accept.
We’d spent months in isolation to make sure they were still convinced that she’d died during the hit, just like her parents. To make sure they wouldn’t come back and finish what they’d started.
When I hadn’t been helping with her recovery, I’d drowned myself in finding who had done this to her. I’d made it my personal mission to find the bastard who’d harmed her.
But to this day, we still had no idea who’d ordered and executed the hit.
When you’d worked cases like the ones I’d been tasked with for years, it rewired your heart. I’d been hired to keep an eye on her, but the natural instinct to protect her eventually became more visceral than duty-driven.
It didn’t take long for her to revive my soul and bring it back to life, and I fell for her.
Hard.
Yes, she had been beautiful—you’d be blind not to see it—but what had really drawn me in was her resilience. Despite everything she’d gone through, from witnessing her parents’ murders to being shot, she had been stronger than most of the guys I’d worked with.
I’d tried limiting my interactions with her and avoiding any situations that would have the potential to veer me away from professionalism because I had a job to do. I’d needed to keep a clear head to protect her.
But she was fascinating.Intoxicating. I shouldn’t have wanted her. Icouldn’twant her.
Or at least I’d thought so until that night when everything had changed.
Of all the people in this world, I’d ended up falling for a heart that didn’t beat in synchrony with mine.
My stomach flipped, twisting my gut as I thought about the day I’d woken up without her by my side. It took a conscious effort to keep my hackles from rising. I shoved my hands in my pockets, so I could clench my fists without anyone noticing, attempting to prevent the anger from taking over.
I hadn't seen or heard from Sofia. That didn’t mean I’d stopped looking for her. Because trust me, I hadn’t.
For seven fucking years I looked for her.
I honestly didn’t know why I kept searching when she’d left me without a single word. But something deep in my gut had always told me to continue.
The sound of the sliding glass doors opening pulled me back from my thoughts. The pads of my fingertips were still tingling from touching her, so I swiped them along the side of my thigh and trailed behind her husband out onto the terrace.
He led us to a marbled patio table, where he took a seat in one of the chairs. “There’s something we need to discuss. It’s about Olivia,” he said, gesturing at one of the free seats in front of him. “Sit.”
My brows shot up in confusion, wondering if he’d bring up my reaction to seeing his wife. “What about Mrs. Morales, sir?”
I sat across from him, leaned back in the metal chair, threw my arm over the back of the one next to me, and propped the heel of my black Oxford on my other knee.
Morales exhaled, reaching slowly inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a small stack of crinkled notes, then laid them flat on the table. I reached for them, reading the one on top, quickly realizing it was the same threat note from Noah’s file.
My eyes drifted to that last line again where “will history repeat itself” was scribbled in black ink. The image of his wife filtered in my mind and a violent flame burned in my chest at the thought of her suffering the same fate as his late wife.
This was ridiculous. I had just met her.
She reminds you of Sofia, the part of me that was still holding onto her said. I inwardly cursed it, silencing it for the time being.
“Mr. Morales, what did they mean by history repeating itself?” I asked, my mind unable to piece it together. I knew I was hired to protect his wife, but any information I’d been given was hazy.
I needed to know more.
