CHAPTER 26
Elena
I feelsomething warm on my back, and something wrapped around me. I blink my eyes open slowly, disoriented for a moment before remembering where I am. Who I'm with.
Marco.
His arm is draped over my waist, his body pressed against mine. The sunlight filtering through the curtains tells me it's late morning. I shift slightly and his arm tightens, pulling me closer.
"Running already, little fox?" His voice is rough with sleep.
I turn in his arms to face him. He's smiling, and it's infuriating how handsome he is even first thing in the morning.
"No," I say, though my mind is already racing with questions. Where do we go from here? What does this mean?
He kisses my shoulder, then slides out of bed. "I'll start the coffee."
I watch him pull on his pants from yesterday, commando, and head to the bathroom. I try and not crash out as the reality of what just happened between us washes over me.
When Marco emerges from the bathroom, he catches me staring and smiles. "You good?"
"Yeah. Just thinking."
He walks to the bed and pulls the sheet away from me. "Hey!" I grab for it but he's too quick.
"You got your fill, now I want mine," he says, his eyes roaming over me.
I cover my chest. "Stop it!"
He grins and heads for the door. "Get dressed. We need to talk."
The words send a chill through me. Of course we need to talk. I told him about the debt, and now he's going to want every detail.
I pull on a shirt and shorts, then take a deep breath before leaving the bedroom. Time to face the music.
In the kitchen, Marco hands me a mug of coffee. "Last night doesn't change anything about what we need to do today. We still have to deal with the threat. But now we're doing it together."
Together. The word makes my chest tight.
"I know the basics about the debt," he continues. "But I need to know everything else. The timeline. Every interaction you've had with them. Anything that might help us figure out their next move."
We move to the couch and I start from the beginning. I tell him about how my father was excommunicated from the Rossos, about the gambling debt. About how I hadn't heard from him in over a year and got worried.
"That's when I went to Marcello," I explain. "He's a friend of my dad's. I thought he could help me find him."
Marco's jaw tightens at the mention of Marcello.
"The conversation was just about finding my dad. Nothing about the debt at first. Then Marcello wanted payment for information." I pause. "He wanted sex. But you stepped in before anything happened."
"And you tried to contact him again after that," Marco says. It's not a question.
"Yes. Through the cafe." I glance at him. "You figured that out."
"I had a theory. The pattern was pretty clear—you'd go to the cafe, then try to escape within twenty-four hours."
"The barista. She's my contact. I slip her notes with my order, she gets me responses." I take a shaky breath. "But the meeting I thought was with Marcello turned out to be Ronan."
Marco's hands clench. I reach for one of them. "Thank you for saving me that day. I never said it properly."
