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narrowed. “Why do you look guilty?” She’s smart, and I need to stop being surprised by this. She’s my one-of-a-kind.

Here goes.

“Because. I have used enslavement with Topher.” My eyes meet hers.

Now she’s silent.

She sits back in the chair, resting her head against the headrest. Her eyes are close and she’s breathing deeply, trying to calm her response. I need to fix this.

“It was before I got to know you.” I try to justify it, even though I don’t need to.

Her eyes are still closed. “Would that make a difference even if you did know me? Would you still have done it to him?”

When you’re confessing, the only thing is to be completely honest. She may not like what she wants to hear, but hopefully she will realise my honesty and learn to trust me. Again.

“I’d do the same. If it meant keeping you safe.”

Her eyes open and she looks at me, her head still resting on the headrest.

“Why haven’t you used it on me? Surely I would have given you less trouble?” That is definitely the truth and something I thought about a lot.

“I don’t know. I can’t make myself do it.” Being vulnerable isn’t something I’m used to, and I shift uncomfortably.

We both stare at each other as the car comes to a stop, not even needing to look, I know we’ve reached our destination.

“We’re here.” Fear flashes through her eyes and quickly gets hidden as she sits straight up.

“Okay.” She takes a long deep breath in. “We’re going to finish this conversation later,” she says pointedly, and I nod.

She turns and sees the house. It’s a single-story mansion. Her face scrunches up in confusion.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Her eyes are trailing up and looking around.

“Yes.”

“It can’t be,” she whispers, barely audible.

“Elita, we don’t have to do this today.” Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

She answers by opening the door. She hasn’t broken eye contact with the large double front doors at the end of a long-paved path.

“I won’t be long.” She drops her head back inside the car. “No way this is where she lives.”

I don’t tell her this is one hundred percent where she lives. It had taken a while and some not so ethical tactics to get this information.

“Remember, I’m here. If you don’t want to do this, tell me what you want to know, and I can retrieve the information for you.”

“No,” she says firmly. “Don’t follow me in there Leo, no matter what you hear. Well, obviously if she tries to kill me, then please help. But whatever happens, let me deal with it. Besides.” She looks back to the house. “There’s no fucking way she lives here.”

I do as she asks and don’t follow. But I don’t wait in the car, either. This was the reason I decided on this time for the meeting. The sun has set.

I stand leaning on the boot of the car, with the men to the side. All of us waiting as we watch her walking towards the door.

We sent a team last night to set up a perimeter around the zone. I can imagine where they would be but cannot see them, which is exactly how it should be. If I made them, then there would be trouble.

“Here we go,” Lucas says, lighting up a smoke. He nods towards Elita as she pushes the doorbell.

It rings loud and clear.

There’s silence as we all wait to see who is on the other side of the door.

As expected, a middle-aged woman, beautiful in her own right. Although it’s hard to call a woman beautiful when she abandoned her child, but there is no doubt that she’s Elita’s mother. The resemblance is undeniable.

The woman greets her with a bright smile.

“Hello love. Can I help you?” she asks Elita, and I hate that I can’t see her face. Is she ok?

There’s no response.

“Oh shit,” Broderick says.

“She’s got this,” I say. She is the strongest woman I know.

The woman takes a step out of the door. “Are you friends with Hannah?”

“Hannah?” Elita’s soft voice finally hits my ears.

Her mother’s face screws up and she must realise this is no ordinary visit. Her eyes dart around, then land on us, then back to Elita.

“Who are you?” she demands.

“I get it’s been a while. But I’m your daughter. Elita.” There she is. I see her spine straightening and I relax more leaning on the car.

Her mother’s mouth drops open and colour drains from her face. Her eyes bouncing between us and Elita. She steps forward quickly and grabs her arm, pulling her closer and hisses. “What are you doing here?”

I push off of the car. How dare she touch or talk to her like that? I feel a hand on my shoulder. Fucking Broderick. I growl and lean back on the car.

I hate being unable to do anything but watch someone I love get hurt in front of me.

Love.

Where did that come from?

Actually, why would I be that surprised? My reaction to her is undeniable, I have never been this affected, and I’m over trying to rationalise why I feel this way. So what if it was predestined and put in my head so long ago?

It’s her, this woman that’s right in front of my eyes. The one that grabs her mother’s wrist and pries it off her arm in disgust. She doesn’t cower, she doesn’t waver. Of course, it’s love. She is my mate. My fate. My soul.

“I’m your daughter, are you not curious.” Elita tries to reason.

“Ssshhh.” This time she closes the door behind her.

Elita’s body goes rigid.

“We got an incoming,” Lucas says. “White BMW pulling into the drive.”

“Shit, you have to go,” the woman says desperately to Elita.

“What?” Elita asks dumbfounded.

Her question is answered by a group of girls not much younger than her piling out of the car.

“Mum, you should see what Lauren made me buy!” A bubbly young lady holds up a store bag as she walks with her friends towards

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