“Jesus,” he murmured. “You look terrified.”
“I am terrified,” I admitted.
His expression softened in a way that seemed almost believable. “Of Leo?”
My throat tightened. I wanted to say yes. I wanted it to be simple. I wanted Leo to be the villain and Angelo to be the rescue and myself to be the girl clever enough to know the difference.
But Leo’s face flashed in my head before I could answer. The way he had looked at me when I trembled beneath him. The wayhis hands had stopped when I broke. The way he had watched me like he wanted to ruin the world for making me cry.
Then another image came. Papa pale in a hospital bed. Leo’s poison. Leo’s lies. Leo’s voice telling me I belonged to him.
“Yes,” I said, forcing the word out. “Of Leo.”
Angelo studied me for a second too long. Then he nodded, as if I had passed a test.
“Come upstairs,” he said. “You’re shaking.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere private.”
His brows lifted, amused. “Chiara, sweetheart, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t need privacy.”
The words settled between us. Soft. Polite. Awful. My fingers tightened around the coat.
Angelo seemed to realize his mistake, because he gave a small laugh and lifted both hands, palms out. “That came out wrong.”
“No,” I whispered. “I think it came out exactly right.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not yet. Interest. He liked that I noticed.
“You really are wasted on him,” he said.
I swallowed. “On Leo?”
“On all of us,” he muttered. Before I could respond, he turned and walked toward the elevator. He didn’t look back right away. He knew I would follow. I hated that I did.
The elevator doors opened soundlessly, revealing a mirrored interior that reflected me from every angle. Pale face. Wide eyes. Swollen lips from biting them. A girl pretending she hadn’t just run from one dangerous man into the arms of another.
Angelo pressed the button for the top floor. Of course. My stomach sank as the doors closed. For a moment, there was only the hum of the elevator and the faint sound of music drifting from somewhere below. Angelo stood beside me, close enough that I felt the warmth of him, but not close enough to accuse.
“You did well getting out,” he said.
I stared at our warped reflections in the mirrored doors. “Did I?”
He smiled. “Better than I expected.”
That made me look at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means Leo’s security is usually more competent.”
“Sergio trusted me,” I whispered.
“He won’t make that mistake again.” Angelo winked at me.
The thought of Sergio’s face when he realized what I’d done made guilt pinch sharply beneath my ribs. He had been kind to me in his own blunt, silent way. He had left his phone for only a minute. His keys for even less. And I had taken both.
“What will Leo do to him?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Angelo’s mouth curved. “Still worried about Leo’s men?”
