“Did you tell Leo what you heard? That’s above his rank.”
“If I did, would you kill him like you killed Gen.”
He looks away, annoyed at my mentioning of her name.
“Exactly.” I can’t give my ‘protectors’ any justification for killing. I made that mistake once. And the only girlfriend I had paid for that.
Chapter 5
Aurelia
FLASHBACK
Six years ago
Iwake to the sound of someone loading a gun.
Which, in this house, is the equivalent of hearing birdsong.
Rolling over, I find Enzo at the foot of my bed, leaning down to lace his boots, the Glock tucked into the back of his jeans fitting so snug that it’s basically part of his spine.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says without looking at me.
“It’s not morning until I say it is,” I mutter into my pillow. Then louder: “And why do you sound chipper? Did someone die?”
He shoots me a look over his shoulder—the kind that could peel skin if you weren’t already immune. “You have training. Be outside in fifteen. It’s Elijah’s turn to wake you tomorrow if you’re late.”
That got my attention. Elijah’s wake-ups usually involved blunt force trauma or, once, a live snake.
I sit up, my hair a nest, clutching my blanket and using it more as body armour than anything else. “You’re evil.”
“You’re spoiled.”
“I’m cherished.”
He smiles and starts toward the hallway, leaving my room.
I peel myself out of the sheets. “Tell Papa I’m on my way,” I shout.
“I’m not your messenger,” he says, already halfway down the staircase.
“Fine, tell Elijah,” I call after him. “He’ll enjoy it more,” I whisper to myself.
No answer. Typical.
I drag myself into the closet, which is less a closet and more a mini-boutique. Rows of silks and satins hang in precise colour order, all curated by Papa’s personal shopper, who has excellent taste in things I’m not allowed to wear unless it’s requested by Papa’s clients. There are little black dresses, high heels, and tops with scandalous cuts that have never seen daylight.
I reach for my training gear—black leggings and a tank top—and pull my hair into a messy ponytail. I grab my sneakers from under the vanity and hop into them as I step into the hall.
The De Luca house is an all-male domain, except for me, of course. I’ve grown used to navigating their personalities, but I would still much prefer a gentler way to wake up.
The men may look tough around here, but they give me the princess treatment, and I know they would never harm me or anyone else unless it was strictly business.
Well, except my brother, who is two years older than me, and although he has always trained with me, supported me, and, well, been my brother, his constant complaints make it obvious he’d rather be doing anything else. Which is why he often hands his training duties to his best friend, Elijah.
The scent of coffee drifts from the kitchen, mingling with the faint metallic tang of gun oil from the armoury. I run down the stairs, and somewhere down the hall, a sharp male laugh rings out, echoing off marble and glass.
I try to avoid the group, knowing I’m already late for training with Elijah. Still, I catch James’s eye as I pass through the foyer and into the kitchen.
