Page 24

No.

Stop it.

Do not get all warm and fuzzy boyfriend feelings about Sebastian.

He tossed a blanket over me. Nothing more. Don't turn it into something it's not.

He wasn't the romantic hero of this story.

He was the maniacal supervillain trying to take over my world.

Before rising, I cast a glance over the room, listening for movement.

Nothing.

I slipped out from under the blanket and picked up the garment bag still draped across the end of the bed. Pushing open the folds, I pulled out the Prada tracksuit he'd bought me in Paris.

Had it really only been a few weeks ago?

There was only the tracksuit, no bra or panties.

Of course. I sighed. He probably did that on purpose.

I shrugged. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if lingerie slowed the man down. No wrestling over a tight bra clasp for Sebastian. He just tore the damn thing off.

After slipping into the tracksuit, I stood in indecision once I was dressed.

I both wanted to leave and never leave at the same time.

On the other side of that door was reality.

It was the fallout from what had happened earlier.

I looked over my shoulder at the discarded blanket on the bed, wanting to climb back under it.

And that was when I heard it…

Sebastian's voice. Low and authoritative through the door.

I crept closer and leaned my ear against the wood. The ornate panels of the Borgia apartment door chilled my skin, the intricate carvings of papal crests digging into my cheek.

Dammit. It was all just growled mumblings.

I traced the gold-leaf detailing as I listened more closely. The irony of hiding in what was once a pope's private quarters while a mafia king prowled outside wasn't lost on me.

The Renaissance frescos watched from above, scenes of power, virtue, and sin painted by hands long dead. How fitting.

Biting my lip, I reached out and tentatively grasped the doorknob. The heavy brass was cool against my palm, worn smooth by centuries of conspiring hands.

Did I dare?

Fuck it.

I turned the knob, grimacing at the loud click as the bar slid back.

I waited, holding my breath, the sound of my heartbeat drowning out everything else.

The conversation on the other side of the door continued.