Ronan’s POV
The safe house was suffocating.
For three days, I had been stuck in a cramped old brownstone in a neighborhood that smelled like old grease and unfulfilled dreams. The thin walls allowed me to hear Jaxon pacing restlessly above me, his footsteps matching the chaos in my mind.
Sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop open, I was trying to make sense of Hart’s threats. He was someone deeply entrenched in illegal activities, and he had a lot to lose if we exposed him. The idea of him accusing us of serious crimes like human trafficking seemed ridiculous and dangerous at the same time.
“He’s just putting on a show,” Maddox said as he walked in, carrying two cups of coffee. He set one down in front of me without asking, always knowing what I needed before I did.
“Not entire
