“You too.” I turn back to Marco.
I’ve never been more relieved to see a seven-foot-tall Italian man with a scar on his cheek in my life.
“Let’s go.”
He nods and makes sure he’s the first one out the door. As he walks, his coat flips open. I see the gun he’s got strapped to his side. The sight makes my mouth go dry, a visceral, real reminder of the danger out there. He’s armed.
And dangerous.
Did the man have a gun hidden on him too?
“Stay close to me,” Marco orders me. “On the inside, not by the street. That way, if anyone tries to take us by surprise, I can block you.”
My heart is beating three times its normal rate, and I don’t feel even the slightest hint of relief until we’re back in the elevator, past a few layers of armed guards, on our way back to the penthouse and Cid.
“No more trips to the coffee shop,” Marco tells me as the elevator dings and opens on the top floor and we get out.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I have no intention of venturing beyond these walls until it’s time for me to pass the baton to Luna.
“I’m sorry for causing trouble,” I apologize, guilty that Marco had to chase after me and put himself in danger.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” Marco says gruffly. “That’s the boss.”
He’s talking about Alessio.
“Well, I’m also sorry about you having to potentially jeopardize yourself on my behalf. You would have used yourself as a human shield. For me.”
“I’ve sworn an oath,” he tells me. “I do what I’m told.”
So much for my gratitude.
“Of course.” Still feeling shaky, I head to the door of the penthouse, enter my code, and step inside.
I set my tea on the counter along with my bag, inhale, and then release a massive breath, feeling like I just dodged a bullet. Maybe even a literal one.
“Cid,” I call, wondering where he’s at.
His bowl is empty at its customary place in the kitchen. Apparently, during the time it took for me to be stalked by a menacing stranger, Cid finished his breakfast and signed out of the chat.
“Cid?” Toeing off my shoes, I pass through the kitchen and turn a corner into the massive living area, where floor-to-ceiling windows show off the impressive spectacle of the cityscape.
I’m checking out the amazing bird’s-eye view that never ceases to impress me, so I fail to notice the man sitting in a sleek leather chair until I hear his voice.
“Care to explain what the fuck you were doing wandering around the city alone?”
Alessio is here, Cid in his lap, and from the expression on his face and the tone of his voice, he’s not a happy camper.
My heart starts beating faster again.
Shit.
Chapter 12
SAINT
“I wasn’t wandering around the city,” Isla says defensively.
She’s wearing a pink tee that hugs her tits and faded jeans that showcase her curves. Her gold hair is loose and wavy, and I want to sink my hand in it.
