“I learned other things. Like power is the best drug imaginable. Killing is easy, mercy is hard. I could write a damn book.”
“You should. I’d read it.”
“I’m taking all these secrets to the grave, my young friend.” Elias looks at me thoughtfully. “Send her to see me sometime. I’d love to speak to the girl that stole Massimo Cardone’s heart.”
“I’ll do that.” I stand and pat my old friend’s shoulder. “Some other time. You should get some rest.”
“There’s always more work to do. Even here, I’m still a Dragon.”
I leave him alone. Guilt gnaws at me as the door closes behind me. It was good to talk to him, and it felt like dropping a weight from my shoulders to finally admit out loud how I feel about Allie, but I should have told him the full truth.
Except that might complicate my life more than it already is.
Elias Thorne, the Hidden Dragon. My greatest secret, biggest ally, and closest friend.
I’m afraid it will ruin the foundation of our relationship if he ever finds out who my wife is.
ALLIE
The elevator door dings and a thrilled pang of excitement flutters in my stomach.
It’s kind of pathetic, actually. I’m like one of those dogs trained to drool when a bell rings. The second the elevator shows up, I’m bouncing in my seat, excited to see Mass.
Rosie’s asleep. It’s starting to get late, and I crave him so badly.
But instead of my dark, beautiful, brooding husband, an explosion of boxes tumbles out into the hallway.
“Motherfuck.” Mass appears behind the boxes, kicking some of them out of his way. They’re unmistakably from high-end stores. Most have logos and names emblazoned on their tops and sides. I gape at Chanel, Dior, Kiton, Brioni, Loro Piana, and more. Mass pulls a cart behind him piled high with even more bags.
“What is all this?”
He glances at me as he gets everything into the entry hall before gesturing at the insane pile. “Presents.”
I laugh at that single word. “What are you talking about?”
“I bought you some things.” He steps back, frowning at the sheer amount of stuff. “I might have gotten too much.”
“This is insane. How’d you even get this stuff here? Aren’t we on some random island?”
“Planes. Boats. I have my ways.” He walks to me, pulls me against him, and presses his mouth to mine. The kiss is an even bigger surprise than the high-end clothing and just as welcome. I return it with an eager little whimper, hating myself for how badly I want this and how much I’ve been missing him all day.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, touching my cheek gently.
“Did you get all this stuff for me?”
“Some is for my daughter. But yes, most of it is for you.”
I grin, unable to help myself. I grew up in a beautiful mansion, but it was falling apart. My family never had any money for actual high-quality clothing like this. I mostly dressed from thrift stores and hand-me-downs.
“Can I take a look?”
“Please do.” He kisses me again. “I expect a show.”
I’d hate to disappoint my husband. I gather up a bundle of boxes, not really sure what’s in any of them, and carry the whole lot up to the bedroom. Mass waits patiently downstairs with a glass of wine while I tear open tissue paper and unwrap cashmere sweaters, silk dresses, loafers, travel bags, skirts, and blouses, all of them obscenely well-made and trendy. I’m giddy as I pull a few outfits on and stare at myself in the mirror.
I barely recognize the girl looking back.
There’s a soft knock at the door. It opens, and Mass appears leaning against the doorframe. I’m in a short black dress with my hair pulled back. He lets his eyes roam down my body.
