That tantalizing blush deepens. “Fine, I guess.”
“Thank you, bella.”
“Well, this is my car.” She stops in front of an older sedan. This is not what I pictured when she said she might travel after quitting her job. I expected she would have more money for a newer, safer vehicle.
Then I realize—the money from the auction. Does she think it’s enough to quit her job and travel? I do some quick math. She earned almost fifteen thousand dollars that night. But fifteen thousand will quickly be eaten up by the cost of living in San Esteban. I hope she realizes that, but it isn’t my place to tell her. Not yet.
Perhaps, over time, she will let me help her. I would love to pamper her. The nicest meals, clothes. Jewelry. A new vehicle. She deserves the world. I barely know her, but I know this.
“A kiss, bella?” I lean in.
She lifts her face, and I touch her sweet lips with mine. I control the kiss. Firm, but soft.
I watch Madison get into her car. Every part of me wants to rip that flimsy door open and drag her back out, tuck her into my car, and take her home with me. I would do all kinds of filthy things to her, starting with eating her tight, wet cunt.
How badly I wanted to bend her over the table in Chez Michel. How badly I wanted to give in to the lust ravaging us both.
I’d love to see Seth’s reaction if I brought her home tonight. Imagine if we ran into each other in the elevator.
Madison’s car makes a terrible squeaking sound as she pulls away from the curb. I turn to go, but something in the distance catches my eye—another car pulling out into the street behind Madison’s.
When her car turns right, so does the other one.
Quickly, I jog to the end of the block. Madison’s taillights disappear as she makes another turn. The second car follows her.
I don’t like the look of that. Not at all. It could be a coincidence, but I haven’t lived through as much as I have by not listening to my instincts.
I take my phone from my pocket and make a call.
10
SETH
I’m sitting in bed, scrolling through Redactible, when a notification pops up on my phone screen. Two of our Nove men are moving out. Because we’re a smaller outfit, we have an app that tracks our missions. This is a new operation—nothing I authorized.
I text Damiano. Buster and Fletch are on the move. What’s the mission?
Instead of texting me back like a normal person, he calls. “I just went on a date with Madison.”
“Congrats, asshole, for doing what I asked you not to do.”
“Grazie. I appreciate your blessing,” he says smoothly. “After she drove away, another car was tailing her. I asked Buster and Fletch to follow and keep an eye on her.”
“You think someone’s after Madison?” I feel strange. I don’t want to be involved in Madison’s life—our involvement ended with Kyle’s death. But I also don’t want her to be in danger.
“I’m not certain. That’s why I sent Buster and Fletch to keep watch.”
It’s good. Madison should be safe, and Dan Buster and Cassidy Fletcher are two of our best. Using company resources for her safety—I’m fine with that. We’re doing it for Kyle.
Damiano says, “Hold on, I just received a text from Fletch.”
My pulse spikes. Is Madison okay?
“The other car kept driving when she arrived at her apartment.” Damiano sounds as relieved as I feel. “I’m going to keep them on her, in case the other car returns.”
“This is overly paranoid,” I point out.
“We can afford to be paranoid.” He hangs up without waiting for my response.
