Pain slams through my skull like someone’s using a jackhammer against my temple. I try to open my eyes, but the world spins in sickening waves, forcing them shut again.
There’s something soft beneath me, not the hard concrete I last remember. The sheets smell like smoke, whiskey, and something else—something distinctly Matteo. My fingers curl into fabric that feels too expensive for any place I’d normally be.
Where am I? And, more importantly, where is he?
“Matteo,” I whisper. Or at least I think I do.
A voice breaks through the fog. “Lee?” It’s not him. “Oh, thank God. Can you hear me?”
I force my eyes open again, ignoring the nauseating swirl of colors. Daylight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows,illuminating a massive bedroom done in charcoal gray and midnight blue.
Slowly, recognition clicks, I’m in Matteo’s penthouse. I’ve only been here once before, that first night when he showed me what it would mean to belong to him.
“Piper?” I rasp, my throat sandpaper-dry.
She sits beside the bed, her usually perfect appearance thoroughly wrecked. Hair pulled back in a messy bun, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, designer clothes wrinkled like she’s been wearing them for days.
“Here, drink this.” She helps me lift my head, and unholy fuck that hurts.
I swallow greedily from the glass of water she holds to my lips. The cool liquid both heaven and torture as it slides down my raw throat. When I try to sit up, lightning bolts of pain shoot across my ribcage, and those jackhammers in my head are set to max.
“Don’t move too fast,” Piper warns, easing me back against the pillows. “You’ve been out for over a day.”
A day? Images flash through my mind in violent bursts. Dying my hair pink, drinking with Piper, dancing at the Leone Room, Matteo’s rage as he cut off that asshole’s fingers, my knife against his throat, his empty eye socket staring back at me.
And… a giggle I’m unable to stop bursts out of me as I recall the blood on his chest where I cut him. God, maybe I’m the psycho since that’s distinctly not funny.
“Lee, are you okay?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and let my mind continue its leisurely stroll down memory lane. Darkness… so much darkness. Three bodies. Kayla’s throat slashed, Vito’s head… I swallow bile that rises suddenly.
Fuck, Gia trying to speak. What was it she said? She wanted me to do something, didn’t she? All I remember is Matteo shoving me—hard—out of the way. The wall rushing toward me.
Then… the gunshot.
Matteo.
My heart lurches painfully in my chest as memories crash into place. “Where is he?” The words tear from my mouth with desperate urgency.
Piper bites her lip, something flashing across her face that makes my stomach drop. “You need to rest—”
“Where. Is. Matteo?” Each word lands like a stone, my voice gaining strength even as my head threatens to split open.
“He’s…” She stops, takes a breath. “He’s alive. He’s here.”
Relief floods me so powerfully that for a moment I can’t breathe. But there’s something in her tone, in the way she won’t quite meet my eyes.
“I want to see him,” I demand, already pushing myself up despite the explosion of pain it causes.
“Lee, please.” Piper’s hand on my shoulder tries to guide me back down. “You have a concussion. Your body needs time to heal.”
“I need to see him, Pipes.”
“What you need,” she snaps, voice suddenly sharp, “is to get as far away from here as possible.”
I freeze, staring at her. “What?”
Tears well in her eyes, spilling over as she leans closer. “This is insane, Lee. You were almost killed. People were killed and someone tried to kill Matteo. You got caught in the crossfire of whatever the fuck he’s doing—”
