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I nod.
Understanding dawns in Amelia’s eyes. She squeezes my hand.
I reach out, cupping her chin and tilting her face up so our eyes meet. The warmth in her gaze nearly undoes me. “Until You. The day I saw you walking across the beach.”
She gasps.
“I knew the moment you walked into my life that you were special.” Her breath catches, I continue, “I never thought I was capable of loving someone.”
She shakes a little, and her eyes glisten and she murmurs, “You love me?”
The words pulse between us, igniting something deep inside me. “I do.”
My heart races, thrumming like a drum in my chest as I lean closer.
She doesn’t pull away; instead, she inches closer, closing the gap between us with a sudden rush of desire.
I cup her face in my hands, and I can’t hold back any longer. I lean in, capturing her lips with mine.
The kiss starts gently, but it quickly deepens as we both lean into it. Her fingers grip my shoulders, curling into the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer still.
My mind races with thoughts of everything that has led us to this moment, but right now, none of that matters. All that exists is us.
She kisses me back. It’s fierce. Her lips move against mine, and it tells me more than words ever could.
I pull back just enough to meet her gaze again.
“I love you, too,” she says.
I smile. “Now get that photo so we can get on with our future.”
"Yes boss."
Chapter 27
Amelia
“That’s Lorenzo,” West says, pushing a photo in front of me. “Do you recognize him?”
“He looks a little familiar,” I say, trepidation rolling in my stomach. “What else do you know about him?”
West shakes his head. “Not much. I got that photo from Dante Russo, Dom’s brother. He’s the owner of Club Elysium, and he knows a lot of the Italians who live in Boston because the family is from there.”
“And.”
“He’s what you told me. He’s an assassin.” West sighs. “Or was. Dante thinks he’s hung up his gun.”
“No.” I shake my head, reaching for the phone on West’s home office desk. “He has to help me.” I slam my pointer finger over the numbers, dialing Lorenzo’s number.
“Be prepared for disappointment, Princess.”
My heart pounds. It’s the first time in ages that he’s called me that name.
I swallow, as the line rings, as electric tension thrums to life throughout me.
“Hello.” A woman answers. She sounds young, maybe my age.
“Hello, can I speak to Lorenzo Mancini please?”