"Elena."
She stops but doesn't turn around.
"I do," I say quietly. "Give a damn."
She looks back at me over her shoulder. Something shifts in her expression. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Which is exactly why you need to go to bed. Now."
For once, she doesn't argue. Just gives me a small smile and disappears into her room. The door clicks shut softly.
I grab my water from the counter and head back to the couch. I lie down in the darkness.
Tomorrow I'm taking her to Vito. Tomorrow we'll have to deal with the Ronan situation and whatever the hell she's gotten herself mixed up in.
But tonight, all I can think about is the feel of her skin under my fingers and the way she looked at me like I was someone worth trusting.
I'm so fucked.
CHAPTER 12
Marco
I wakeup actually feeling rested for the first time in days.
Sunlight streams through the living room windows. I sit up and check my phone—almost eight. The longest I've slept all week. Elena must have been too shaken by the Ronan encounter to try another escape. Smart girl.
I pull my shirt on and run a hand through my hair. My mind immediately goes to last night. The way she looked at me while I bandaged her up. That vulnerability in her eyes I've never seen before. Like she wasn't used to someone taking care of her.
Which, knowing her history, she probably isn't. Mother dead. Father missing. She's been on her own for a long time.
I shake off the thought and focus on today. We need to go to Vito's penthouse. I have to tell him about Elena's meeting with Ronan, and hopefully he'll have some insight into what we're dealing with. On the surface, Elena's involvement with Ronan looks damning. But I know she's not telling me everything. This can't just be about not talking to her father for a year.
Why would she contact the Costellos about her missing dad instead of asking us for help? That's the part that doesn't add up.
I'm going to have Rafa run additional background checks on Elio. We don't know much about what he's been doing for the past ten years since his exile.
Movement from the hallway catches my attention. Elena emerges and actually smiles at me before heading to the kitchen. I can hear her starting to prep her coffee.
I stand and walk over to join her.
"Vito invited us for breakfast," I announce, and she jumps slightly, not having heard me approach. "He and I have a meeting, so I figured you could spend time with the girls while we handle business."
"Okay. When are we leaving?" she asks, setting down the coffee grounds she was about to add to the French press.
"Whenever you're ready."
She smiles and says, "Give me twenty minutes," then heads back to her bedroom.
I do a quick change into black jeans and a black t-shirt, brush my hair and teeth in the hallway bathroom, then wait for her on the couch. When she emerges from her bedroom, I have to suppress my reaction to how stunning she looks.
She's wearing a gorgeous floral maxi dress with white sandals, her hair flowing in natural waves, and barely any makeup—though she doesn't need any. She's a natural beauty in every sense. Gold hoops dangle from her ears, and a long gold chain with a small pendant rests against her chest.
I stand to meet her in the middle of the living room and gently place my hand on her side. "How does it feel?" I ask, looking down at her injury then back up to her eyes.
"It's sore. That's why I wore this dress—it's loose and comfortable. You ready to go?"
She looks absolutely stunning. Instead of answering her question, I move my hand from her side to her necklace, lifting the pendant to examine it. She steps closer to me, and the scentof jasmine and vanilla fills the space between us. I take a deep breath of her fragrance and rub my finger over the pendant—a delicate gold vine about an inch long.
