Had things gone well, Tristan would have been questioning the man who'd nearly taken his wife from him. The other guy would have had a few broken bones and maybe a few missing teeth. But he still would have been aware enough to talk, to give up whoever had sent him, if indeed there had been someone else behind the attack.
But that was not what was happening. Instead, Tristan was in his office, staring out at the city below, his entire frame tightly coiled with rage. They'd had him.
Had they been just a little bit faster. The man would have been in Tristan's grasp, but he'd gotten away.
Ever since the night of the attack, Tristan had had people guarding not only the roads, but the airports, the bus station, and also the train station. He had even had people over at the docks. But Ariel's attacker had slipped through all of that.
