SAVANNAH
Iwake up slowly, like my brain is surfacing through thick water. The first thing I notice is the smell: clean linen, eucalyptus, something soft and expensive I can’t name.
The second is the bed. It’s too big. Too warm. Way too comfortable to be mine.
I bolt upright.
A sharp tug of dizziness hits me and I steady myself on the headboard. My heart flutters hard, too fast, then settles back into something manageable. It takes a full minute before I can focus on anything in the room.
This isn’t my apartment.
I let my eyes wander. This is rich people territory. High ceilings, wood-paneled walls, huge windows letting in the morning light. A fireplace across from the bed. A rug so soft I could probably sleep on it. The kind of bedroom you only see in magazines.
My stomach drops.
“Savannah.”
I jump.
Riccardo Romano stands in the doorway, hands loose at his sides, eyes fixed on me like he expected me to wake at this exact moment. He looks the same as last night: calm, composed, dark hair slightly messed like he ran a hand through it too many times.
“Where am I?” I ask, voice scratchy.
“My home,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My pulse kicks again. “Why am I here?”
“You fainted,” he says simply. “I brought you somewhere safe.”
Last night rushes back all at once.
Gerard. The alley. Riccardo beating him to a pulp. My stupid heart nearly giving out on me.
Then his hands, catching me before I hit the ground.
I swallow hard. “Gerard?—”
“He’s alive,” he says. “And not your concern anymore. He won’t set foot near you again.”
The way he says it leaves no room for argument.
I don’t ask more. I don’t want to know.
Except that we work together,part of me urges.It’s his family’s restaurant. And I need the paycheck.
God, please, don’t let me be fired.
Not much I can do about that now, though. Whatever’s happened, I’ll find out tonight, when I show up for my shift. Because I have to show up for my shift.
Even though my heart still beats like an out of sync drum.
As if reading my mind, Riccardo steps closer. Not too close. He’s careful about that, I notice. “How do you feel?”
“Confused,” I admit. “And… embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.”
Easy for him to say. He’s the one who dragged me out of a nightmare. He saw me kneeling there. He knew I would have done it. To save Mom’s life, I would have done anything.
