“You don’t know the Bratva like I do. If they wanted casualties, there would have been a dozen bodies buried in the rubble. Everything was timed perfectly. They hacked into the street cameras and wiped them, which tells me they knew where I was and what I was doing, every step of the way. They knew when I’d get to my apartment, what I’d find. They knew you’d tell me, and I’d call the manager to evacuate everyone and clear the street.” He pauses as the elevator doors open with a pleasant ding, like we’re in a posh hotel instead of buried several stories underground. “So, you see? Not a miracle.”
Then he makes a show of being a gentleman and letting me off the elevator first.
Gripping Cid’s carrier so hard it feels like my knuckles might snap, I stomp off the elevator and into a space that’s surprisingly nice and not at all like the cold, utilitarian basement space I imagined. There’s a full kitchen, a spacious living room, and a hallway leading to more rooms and closed doors. There’s even a sparkling chandelier overhead.
“This is some serious Willy Wonka shit right here,” I grumble, looking over my shoulder at Alessio.
He saunters off the elevator, exuding raw magnetism and sex appeal. I wish I could turn off my attraction to him, but it’s still there, burning hotter and brighter than ever, like a trick birthday candle that won’t blow out, only magnified roughly a hundred bazillion times. The doors close behind him, leaving us trapped here together. Or maybe, to be more accurate, leaving me and Cid trapped here, because I don’t know how to get out of this place, and I’m pretty sure there’s only one way—through Alessio.
“Is that the one with the Cowardly Lion?” he asks.
I know he can’t be serious. He’s doing what he does, trying to deflect. I can see past his tough exterior, all the armor he wears.
“No, the one with the girl who turns into a blueberry.”
“I don’t know if I should be happy you’ve calmed down enough to debate movie characters with me or concerned that you don’t look like you’re ready to stab me when I turn the other way.”
He stares at me, and for a second, he’s nothing more than the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and the one I can’t keep myself from wanting. He’s not a Mafia consigliere. He’s not a kingpin in a criminal enterprise who is partially responsible for the reign of terror that’s been visited upon me by Russian mobsters. He’s not the reason I’m hiding in an underground bunker where no one can find me.
He’s just Alessio.
I’m just me.
And I’m glad he’s here, with his irreverence and his sexy mouth and his eight-pack and his magical tongue and even more magical dick.
Cid meows loudly, and I remember that he needs to get settled in yet another new space. I feel bad for the poor guy. He’s had a tough go, first being without Luna and Priest, then moving to a new place, plus an intruder, and now we’re underground in a windowless prison.
It feels kind of like a grave.
“Where should I get him set up?” I ask Alessio, regaining my briefly misplaced sanity.
“I had the guys deliver all his things in an unmarked box. I told them to set up the litter box in the laundry room. Just leave the door propped open, and he can have his run of the place.”
I blink at his casual response. “There’s a laundry room in here?”
This place is wild. And he’s taken care of everything. I just hope the Russian mobsters don’t know about the safe house and, if they do, there’s no way for them to get in here. A shudder goes through me at the thought.
Alessio cocks his head at me, noticing. “You cold?”
“No. I was just wondering if the Russian Mafia knows about this place and how safe we are here.”
“You’re safe here. I promise.”
“You said I was safe at your apartment,” I point out.
His face darkens with wrath, and I regret reminding him of what played out there this morning.
“No one will get to you. This is our safe house for good reason.” He pauses, his jaw working for a second before he continues. “And beyond that, I will lay down my life for yours, Isla.”
His words resonate with truth. He means them.
No one has ever said something like that to me before. I’m reasonably sure that if there had ever been a hint of danger when I was with Christian, he would have thrown me in front of it to save himself.
I’m moved even though I don’t want to be, and even though I know Alessio is partly responsible for this situation.
I open my mouth to say something, but before I can speak, the sound of a woman screaming interrupts. My heart drops.
“Who’s that?” I demand, my suspicions kicking in, fueled by all those episodes of crime shows I’ve binged.
