**
Matti’s safe house is in Red Hook, a warehouse converted into a loft with industrial windows and exposed brick and enough security to hold off a small army. I carry Sophie inside, past the guards Matti stationed at the entrance, and up the metal stairs to the second floor.
She hasn’t said a word since we left the Arsenal.
I take her straight to the bathroom, pulling the blanket away. There’s soot on her clothes and blood on her temple where Rossi put the butterfly bandage. A bruise is forming on her shoulder where she said she fell when the blast threw her.
“Time to clean up,” I say.
She nods but doesn’t move. Fuck, this looks like combat shock, her brain shutting down to protect itself. Aurelio used to get like this after particularly brutal jobs, just sitting in his chair and staring at the wall for hours.
I never knew what to do then. I still don’t, but I try anyway.
I turn on the shower until steam fills the space. She stands there, not undressing, not doing anything, so I do it for her. I peel off her shirt, her bra, slide her jeans down her legs. She steps out of them mechanically for me.
When I start to take off my own clothes, she finally speaks. “You don’t have to—”
“I know.” I strip down and lead her under the spray. Hot water pouring over us both, turning the tile gray with ash and soot. I grab soap, work it into a lather, and wash her, every inch of her while she stands there and lets me.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
She blinks up at me, water running down her face. “For what?”
“This. All of it. The Arsenal. Putting you in danger. I should have—”
I should have what? Stayed away? Never touched her? Left her alone to cook for people who don’t deserve her?
Probably. But I didn’t. And now she’s here, covered in ash from a bomb because of me, and I can’t bring myself to honestly regret it.
“It’s not your fault,” she says softly.
“It is.”
“Aurelio did this, right? Not you.”
“He did it to get to me.” I tilt her face up, make her look at me. “You understand that, right? As long as you’re with me, you’re a target. As long as I’m alive, everyone I care about is in danger.”
Her eyes search mine. “Are you saying you care about me, Vincenzo?”
In any other situation, even with her, I would lie. But the way she’s looking at me, I can’t.
“You know the answer to that, Sophia,” I say roughly.
Her expression shifts, determination in her jaw. “Then I guess we’re both in danger.”
I don’t know what to say to that. So I kiss her, soft at first, then deeper, one hand cradling the back of her head while water pours over us both. She kisses me back, her hands coming up togrip my shoulders, and for a moment the world narrows to just this. Just us.
When I pull back, she’s crying. Silent tears mixing with shower water.
“I worked so hard,” she whispers. “Ten years. Everything I had went into that place. And now it’s just… gone.”
“We’ll get it back.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I fucking can.” I press my forehead to hers. “I’m going to fix this, Sophie. I’m going to make this right. And I’m going to kill the man who did this to you.”
“Vin—”
