I call Ezra as I drive to Santiago’s house. “He delivered a fucking package to her doorstep!”

“Judge, calm down.”

“How did he do that, Ezra?”

“Have you checked your messages?”

“What messages?” I ask, digging my phone out of my pocket, which I’d muted due to a full day of hearings.

“The three I left you a few hours ago.”

I see the notifications on my screen.

“He slipped the guards. Must have gotten out overnight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry, Judge. I’ve let both men go, and we’re scouring the city for him. He won’t get near her.”

“He delivered a fucking package to her doorstep! I’d say he got near her!”

He mutters a curse on the other end, and I force a deep breath in as I near the gates of De La Rosa Manor.

“He’s not done with this. With her,” I say.

“No, you’re right. But we’ll find him.”

“I need to go. Let me know as soon as you know anything.”

“I will. I am sorry, Judge.”

I know he can’t control everything but fuck, this? I disconnect the call and look into the security camera outside the gates of the manor. I’m not sure Santiago will let me in, but I’m unwilling to leave until he sees me. But then, without a word through the intercom, the gates begin to open, and I drive to the entrance where, before I even come to a stop, I see my once best friend standing, arms folded across his chest, mouth in a thin line, his face closed to me.

But I don’t care about that. I can’t. Not right now.

I bring the Range Rover to an abrupt halt, and I am out of the driver’s seat the moment I jerk it into park.

“You didn’t think I needed to know about the death threat at her door?” I stalk to him. I haven’t even closed the car door.

He straightens, gaze cool. “No, I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shove him backward. “She receives a death threat, and you don’t think it’s my fucking business?”

He gets in my face. “No. I didn’t think it was. And how do you know anyway? Did you go near her again?”

I clench my jaw and raise my chin.

“For fuck’s sake. She doesn’t want to see you. Get it through your thick head.” He looks me over from head to toe. “You look like hell. Go home and get some sleep. There’s nothing for you here.” He turns to walk back inside.

“Yeah well, she’s carrying my children, so get that through yours!”

He spins on me, the same rage from the day he learned about us burning like a brand on his face.