Fisting his shirt, I kissed him back with everything I had. I slid my tongue against his. The responding moan sent a rush of heat flooding my veins. I drank his strength into my bones. It steadied me, grounding me to the certainty that we would walk away from tonight as the victors.
Vincenzo pulled back with a rough laugh. “Cazzo, fiore, tu sei bravissima.”
I smirked. “E tu.”
With a final squeeze of his fingers, I tore myself away. Each step took me farther away from his solid presence.
But I would do this. I had nothing to fear.
I gave Gabriella a nod, heading through the dimmed restaurant to the kitchen. Her light steps clipped after me.
“What’s going on?” she demanded as the door fell closed.
Turning slightly, I held up my hand. “Don’t follow me.”
She frowned, and I gave her a reassuring smile.
“It’s going to be okay, just…stay here and read that true crime thriller for an hour before you go home. Okay?” I continued to the back door.
“Amanda, wait.” Her hand fell on my shoulder. There was a massive rock on the thing. That engagement ring had to cost six figures. I would have asked her about it. If my mind wasn’t already preoccupied. She looked back toward the closed kitchen door. “Why are the guys hanging back?”
“It’s part of the plan,” I assured her.
“Damn you,” she muttered and ripped her hand away. “Not only do you have a career and a man, but you get to have all the fun.”
I wanted to tell her nothing about this was fun. She might have a sheltered life. Mine might seem exciting by comparison, but her mundane routine was the much safer choice.
“Trust me, live through your books.” I laughed. “It’s better that way.”
Opening the back door, I stepped into the inky grasp of the midnight gloom. A pulse ran through the dark. The current of energy felt dangerous. The kitchen door clanged shut behind me, cutting off the direct connection to safety.
I was on my own.
But I wasn’t alone.
My thumb stroked the sore, raw skin of my new tattoo. It would need to be covered. Later. When this nightmarish hell was over. In the rush to prepare, we’d forgotten to properly perform aftercare.
I hoped to high heaven it didn’t get infected.
Maybe I’ll get a whole sleeve. The inner musing made me smile as I hurried down the alley. Emerging onto the street, I kept my head down, watching from under my brow for any movement.
The tracker on my phone was on, the signal unblocked. The foreign warlord had the signal, and he was in the vicinity. The streets might seem quiet and empty, but we had eyes everywhere. Through the camera lenses, Vincenzo’s techy friends watched over us. Made Men were stationed at intervals to intercept any threat.
I had one task—lure out the warlord.
I sensed him before I picked up the movement. Ahead, moving toward me. I flicked a glance. Sure enough, the looming mass was there. Maksim wore a thick overcoat, as if it was the middle of winter.
When he was a dozen feet away, I pulled up short with a fake gasp of surprise.
“There she is,” the warlord chuckled. “You thought you could hide from me?”
Time to run.
I bolted. Diving down the nearest alley, my feet pounded against the uneven pavement. Vincenzo would be at the mouth. I just had to reach him, and this would be over.
My heartrate doubled. Arms pumped. Muscles burned.
As I avoided tripping over a piece of trash, it dawned on me. Why the hell didn’t I turn and just shoot the fucker? It would definitely be over then.
