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Panic rises, but I force it down. I’m not dying here. Not with Leo sleeping down the hall. I throw my head back, feeling the satisfying crunch as it connects with what feels like a nose. Something warm and wet sprays across my neck and shoulder.

The arms around me loosen. I twist again, breaking free. My fist connects with flesh—once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Each impact sends shockwaves up my arm, but I don’t stop. Can’t stop. I hear harsh breathing, mine or theirs, I’m not sure anymore.

A hand grabs my hair, yanking my head back. Stars explode behind my eyes as something hard connects with my temple. The world tilts sideways. I stumble, my bare feet sliding on the floor.

Through my blurred vision, I see a dark shape materialize behind my attacker. My head throbs where it was hit, and I blink hard, trying to clear my sight.

The newcomer moves like a predator, silent and deadly. Even in my dazed state, I recognize Zeke’s broad shoulders and powerful frame. He grabs my attacker from behind, one arm wrapping around the man’s throat while the other locks his arms behind his back. The move is practiced, efficient—the kind of thing you learn on the streets, not in any gym.

“You shouldn’t have touched her,” Zeke growls, his voice dropping to a dangerous register I’ve never heard before. It sends chills down my spine.

My attacker struggles, but Zeke’s grip is like iron. I watch, still trying to catch my breath, as Zeke forces the man to his knees. The streetlight filtering through the windows catches Zeke’s face—his expression is terrifying, cold, and focused. This isn’t the man who kissed me in the back seat of his car. This is someone else entirely.

“Please,” the man chokes out. “I was just following ord—”

The crack echoes through the room like a gunshot. One fluid motion, so fast I almost miss it. Zeke’s hands on either side of the man’s head, a sharp twist, and it’s over. The body crumples to the floor between us.

I press my hand against the wall to steady myself, my bare feet cold against the hardwood. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth—I must have bit my lip during the fight. My chest heaves as I try to process what just happened.

Zeke stands over the body, his chest rising and falling rapidly, hands still clenched at his sides. When he looks at me, his eyes are dark with something primal and protective that makes my breath catch.

He crosses the room in two long strides, his hands cupping my face. “Are you hurt?” His voice is rough with concern, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “Eve, love, talk to me.”

I nod, still struggling to catch my breath. “I’m okay.” The words come out shaky. My temple throbs where my attacker hit me and bruises form on my arms, but nothing feels broken. “We need to call this in. I have to report—”

“No.” His tone brooks no argument. He releases me, pulling out his phone. “This never happened.” He punches in a number, speaking rapidly when someone answers. “Clean up needed. My location. Now.” He disconnects, dark eyes finding mine again. “Go pack a bag. You’re leaving tonight.”

“What? No, I can’t—” The words stick in my throat as reality crashes back. “Leo. He’s asleep. I can’t just—”

“He’s coming too.” Zeke’s already moving, heading toward Leo’s room. “Pack enough for both of you. Clothes, essentials, anything important. We’ve got ten minutes before my man arrives.”

I’m frozen, staring at the body on my floor. The man who tried to kill me. The man Zeke killed without hesitation. To protect me.

Blood roars in my ears as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

“Evelyn.” Zeke’s voice snaps me back. “Move. Now. I’ll get Leo.”

My feet carry me upstairs on autopilot, stopping in the bathroom first to clean the blood off my neck and face. I inspect the head wound I sustained, grateful it’s hidden in my hairline. I won’t have to explain that to anyone.

Once I’ve cleaned off most of the blood, I grab the overnight bag from my closet, shoving clothes in without really seeing what I’m taking. My hands shake as I collect my badge and credentials from the nightstand. The Glock—where did it fall during the fight? I’ll have to find it before we leave.

My legs quiver as I descend the stairs, the overnight bag heavy in my grip. The metallic tang of blood still lingers in the air and gets thicker as I approach the body of my attacker. I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies on the job but seeing this one hits differently. This one is in my home.

I freeze by the body, recognition hitting me hard. Giovanni Costa, son of one of the local mafia families. This is not going to go over well. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to let myself focus too hard on the fact that a high-ranking member of the local mafia just tried to kill me.

I round the corner into the kitchen and stop before entering. Leo stands next to Zeke, his dragon pajamas rumpled from sleep, his sandy blond hair sticking up in all directions. His blueeyes are wide with fear as Zeke crouches beside him, my Glock held carefully in one hand.

“Your aunt is very brave,” Zeke says, his voice gentle in a way I’ve never heard before. “She protects people—that’s her job. But right now, I need to protect both of you. That’s why it’s safer if you come stay with me for a while.”

Leo’s lower lip trembles. “Are the bad men coming back?”

Something in my chest cracks. I drop the bag and cross the kitchen in three quick steps, pulling Leo into my arms. He buries his face against my neck, his small body trembling. “Everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. “I promise.”

“I’m scared,” he mumbles against my skin.

“I know, baby.” I hold him tighter, meeting Zeke’s dark gaze over Leo’s head. “But we’re going to be fine. Mr. King is going to help keep us safe.”

Leo pulls back slightly, looking between me and Zeke with tear-filled eyes. “Like how Mommy and Daddy went to heaven to keep us safe?”