Chapter 57 57
The name made his heart skip. “Carter?” His voice was sharp now. He couldn't think of any reason specifically why Carter would be contacting him, and he already knew it couldn't be good. “It's been a while since—”
“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent.” The voice on the other end was taut, strained. “It’s Reese. He’s been compromised. His cover’s blown.”
Stefan froze. The screwdriver slipped from his fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor. The mission Reese had told him about at the wedding had clearly gone wrong. “What do you mean compromised?”
“They got him in Bucharest. He was tracking the Dubrovnik Syndicate’s movement, but something went wrong. We lost contact two days ago. We just confirmed—they’ve got him.”
Stefan ran a hand over his face, trying to think clearly, but all he could hear was the echo of Carter’s words. Reese was more than a partner—he was a brother in all the ways that mattered. They’d saved each other’s lives more than once.
“Carter, I’m out. You know that.”
“I do. But he’s not just anyone. You trained him, Stefan. You know how Reese works. You’re the only one who can find him before they move him out of the city.”
Stefan didn't speak for a while. He turned toward the kitchen. He could see Alana now, laughing as she tried to keep Juliana’s tiny hands from grabbing a spoon. She looked radiant in the warm light, her hair tied loosely, her wedding ring glinting every time she moved.
His throat tightened.
“Send me the file,” Stefan said finally. His voice was low, resigned. “Details. All of it.”
Carter exhaled, a mixture of relief and regret. “You’re doing the right thing, Stefan. I’ll email everything within the hour.”
The call ended, and Stefan just stood there, phone in hand, staring at nothing.
Alana’s voice floated to him from the kitchen, soft and light. “Hey, are you okay in there? You’ve been awfully quiet!”
He swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, fine. Just got a call.”
“From who?”
“An old colleague,” he said, bending to pick up the fallen screwdriver. His hand trembled slightly.
Alana came closer, holding Juliana on her hip. “You look pale. What’s wrong?”
He looked at her—really looked. The woman who had turned his life upside down and made him believe in something steady and warm. He wanted to tell her the truth, but how could he, when every word might shatter the peace they’d just built?
“It’s nothing,” he lied softly, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “Just something from my old life. I’ll take care of it.”
But even as he said it, the weight of what “taking care of it” meant pressed on his chest like a vice.
That night, when Alana slept, Stefan lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He knew he couldn’t ignore that call. Not when Reese’s life depended on him.
He’d promised Alana that world was behind him—but promises didn’t save lives.
Tomorrow, he would have to tell her.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d go, do what needed to be done, and come back before she ever found out, but even he knew that it was a ridiculous plan. If he left like that she'd hate him forever, but how could he look her in the eyes and break her heart after just three weeks of making his vows.
Deep down, Stefan knew—nothing about this mission would be simple.
And nothing about leaving Alana and Juliana behind would ever feel right.
__________
Alana stared out the window into her backyard, watching her father inspect Stefan's handiwork on the castle-style gym he'd built for Juliana. The two men had hit it off famously, sharing some secret bond. Her father had told her already that he thought Stefan was more than a good choice for her, but he didn't elaborate on what the "more than'' meant. She wondered how shocked her father would be that she and her new husband had been romping all over the place, buck naked till the wee hours. Smiling privately, she watched Stefan and her father inspect a joist.
"You don't know what to do with yourself, do you, honey," her mother said, and Alana glanced back over her shoulder. Their parents had been sharing Juliana like a great prize. The baby was in Grandparent heaven.
"You all are going to spoil Juliana so badly I'll be tearing my hair out when you're not here."
"Our privilege," her mother, Laura said. "We get to have all the fun and none of the work." With that, she handed Juliana a biscuit. "Do you have any chocolate?" she teased.
Alana laughed and, shaking her head, went into the kitchen. It was all…perfect. Perfection in anything scared Alana. It was almost like she was worried that something would happen and ruin this perfect little life they'd begun.
This house. Their daughter. Waking up beside Stefan, staring across the dinner table, talking late at night, it was all so real and comforting. And it had only been weeks. While Stefan learned she gave great back rubs, she realized he could repair just about anything. Juliana absolutely loved that her daddy was near, and though Alana had some time off, she almost dreaded going back to work.
Laura came into the kitchen carrying snack trays and dishes from their barbecue. Alana reached for them.
"I got it." Laura started rinsing and loading them into the dishwasher. "So how are you doing, honey?"
"Just fine. Great, actually."
Laura, who was petite with dark hair that showed very little gray, moved a little closer. "You sound shocked."
Alana looked at her mother. "I wasn't expecting for it to be this…easy."
"It wasn't easy getting to this spot though, was it?"
Alana scoffed to herself. "No, mom."
"I knew there was something between you two at Emily's wedding." At Alana's glance, Laura wiggled her brows. Alana laughed. "I just didn't know how much, and when Stefan called to talk to your father, I wasn't really surprised all."
Alana's brows shot upward. "I'm glad you approve, mom."
Laura patted her hand, her voice low and private. "I understand what you're going through. Sometimes it works and it scares us. We're waiting for the other shoe to drop, the roof to fall." Her mother was staring out at nothing, a sweet private smile on her face. "Then sometimes you just get more than a little lucky."
Alana prepared a pot of coffee. "Stefan is a good man. We're married and we're friends."