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“Right.” I glance at Seb. “Think you can handle making something while I get him cleaned up?”

My brother’s face lights up with that particular brand of mischief that usually means trouble. “How about ice cream? I make a mean sundae.”

That finally gets Leo to lift his head, though he doesn’t loosen his grip on my shirt. “Really?”

“Really. With all the toppings. Whipped cream, cherries, the works.” Seb grins. “But only after you get cleaned up, deal?”

“Deal,” Leo whispers, a faint smile touching his lips.

I carry him upstairs to the master suite and Leo’s eyes go wide at the sight of the huge soaking tub.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Is this really your bathroom?”

“Yours too now.” I set him down carefully, making sure he’s steady on his feet before letting go. “Think you can handle washing up on your own or do you need help?”

He considers this seriously for a moment. “I can do it. I’m seven.”

“That you are.” I ruffle his hair, trying to ignore how my hand shakes. “I’ll get you some clean clothes. Yell if you need anything, okay?”

He nods and starts fumbling with his smoke-stained shirt. I step out, leaving the door cracked, and lean against the wall for a moment. My heart is still racing, adrenaline singing through my veins. The image of Leo clinging to me for dear life, tear-streaked and terrified, is burned into my brain.

I should have killed Alessandro slower.

A soft splash from the bathroom pulls me back to the present. Right. Clean clothes. I rush to his room and dig through the drawer Eve filled with Leo’s things, finding comfortable pajamas with some cartoon character I don’t recognize.

“You good in there, buddy?” I call through the crack in the door when I return.

“Uh-huh. Can I use the bubbles?”

I glance at Eve’s collection of bath products. “Go for it. Just don’t dump the whole bottle in.”

While Leo splashes around, I take the opportunity to change out of my own smoke-infused clothes. The suit jacket is probably ruined, but it’s a small price to pay. I pull on clean black slacks and a dark sweater, then check my phone.

No messages from Eve yet. The knot in my stomach tightens.

I tense up at a knock on the bedroom door before I recognize Seb’s particular pattern.

“Coast clear?” he asks through the door. “Ice cream’s ready whenever the kid is.”

“Almost done,” I call back, then to Leo. “How’s it going in there, bud?”

“Coming!” There’s more splashing, then the sound of the drain.

I grab a fluffy towel and hand it to him through the door crack, then step back to give him privacy. A few minutes later he emerges, clean and dressed, his hair sticking up in wet spikes.

“Feel better?”

He nods, some of the haunted look finally leaving his eyes. “Can I have ice cream now?”

“Absolutely.” I hold out my hand without thinking and am surprised when he takes it immediately, tiny fingers wrapping around mine with complete trust.

Christ. When did this happen? When did this kid work his way so thoroughly under my skin?

We head downstairs to find Seb has outdone himself. The kitchen island is covered in ice cream toppings—sprinkles, chocolate sauce, caramel, crushed cookies, the works. In the center sits what has to be the biggest sundae I’ve ever seen.

Leo’s eyes go wide. “All for me?”

“Well, maybe save some for the rest of us.” Seb winks. “But yeah, dig in, kid. You’ve earned it.”