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If I didn’t believe in witchcraft before, I did now.

The music softened my anger and frustration. The cares and toils of the day drifted away—actually melted from my body!

I inhaled a ragged breath. It slid back out, blowing hard between my lips. Another deep breath, and then I turned on my heel. I flew up the stairs; my feet barely seemed to touch the concrete. There was no music here, but the haunting feeling was embedded deep inside.

Key in hand, I didn’t pause to open the door. I stepped inside.

Only to silence the melody with my presence.

“You’re back,” Serena said dryly. She reached for the cover and closed the wood over the keys. Then she moved to close the lid on the back. It clapped shut with a dreadful finality.

No!I clenched my jaw to keep from begging her to continue.

“Do you know what kind of chaos this—” Serena gestured to the piano “—caused today?”

I grumbled something, shut and locked the door, and marched to the cabinet for a glass and the bottle of vodka.

“The building manager was irate that a crane—a freaking crane, Markos—showed up. The tenant association is going towrite you up. They nearly came to blows trying to deliver this thing here.”

The liquid fire slipped down my throat. My empty stomach burned in protest. “Fuck ‘em.”

Serena gaped at me. “That’s your answer? Markos! This is our home!”

Our home—did she know what those words did to me? I’d been thinking it for days, but that was the confirmation I needed to know she felt the same way.

Relief seeped into my tight muscles, relaxing them a fraction. The orphan boy had a home—at last.

I set the glass down hard. “Yes. I pay good money for us to live here, why the fuck shouldn’t we own a piano?”

She shook her head, that curtain of silky gold waved through the air, making my fingers itch. “For a mobster, you’re not afraid to cause a scene.”

“I am a monster,” I confirmed, using the synonym of her word. “I will pay them off and the issue will be resolved.”

“Well, there’s a chicken roasting in the oven. Should be done in an hour. I’m going for a swim in the pool before we lose access to the amenities.” Serena glided toward the guest room where her clothes filled the closet.

At the mention of food, my other senses came alive. I inhaled, mouth watering at the sudden scent perfuming the air.

I was hungry.

But not for poultry.

“Stop.” The command came out rougher than I meant.

Serena froze in the middle of the room.

I stepped forward. “Go back to the piano.”

A scornful laugh fell from her lips. “I don’t play for anyone, Markos. If you thought you’d be the exception, you were sorely mistaken.”

I prowled forward. “You’re not playing.”

She arched a brow.

“It’s my turn.” I forced her back as I moved into her space.

“Markos.” My name was shaky as it formed on her tongue. “What are you doing?”

“Playing with my new instrument.” I snatched her waist, backed her against the piano, and lifted her onto the shelf covering the keys.