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"Damiano," he says the moment the call connects. "We've been compromised. Had to take out four men."
"Location?" Damiano's voice fills the car, deep and commanding.
"Moving south on Interstate 95. We need a replacement vehicle."
I watch Alessio's face, the way his eyes constantly scan the road ahead and behind us, never stopping. Blood has soaked through his sleeve where the bullet grazed him, a dark stain spreading across the fabric.
"There's a motel off exit 14," Damiano says. "The Blue Pine. I'm sending Matteo to meet you there. Leave the car behind the building and stay hidden until he arrives."
"Understood," Alessio says.
"We need laptops," I interject suddenly, leaning toward the phone. "At least three of them. Different makes, nothing traceable."
There's a pause on the line.
"Hello, Melania." Damiano's voice drops an octave, dangerous and smooth.
A chill runs down my spine at his tone.
"You'll have what you requested," he continues. "Matteo will take the Maserati. You'll take his car to the secondary location."
"The warehouse?" Alessio asks.
"Yes. Call when you're secure."
The line goes dead. Alessio pockets the phone and takes the next exit, following signs for the Blue Pine Motel.
"We need to treat your wound," I say, eyeing the blood on his arm.
"First we hide," he responds, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Then we deal with this."
The weight of guilt presses down on my chest.
"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "This is my fault. I should have been more careful with the USB."
Alessio's eyes remain fixed on the road, his thumb briefly tracing his bottom lip before he responds. "There's no need to apologize, Melania."
"But—"
"No," he cuts me off firmly. "Fill that beautiful mind of yours with ways to keep us secure from now on. That's what matters."
Beautiful mind. The unexpected compliment catches me off guard. Not beautiful face or body—my mind. Something warm unfurls in my chest and I twist my mother's ring, suddenly flustered.
I turn to study his profile in the dim light from the dashboard. The strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he scans the road, the way his hands grip the wheel with controlled power. Something about him pulls at me, a magnetic force I can't explain and don't want to acknowledge.
After James' betrayal in London I convinced myself I was better off alone than letting any man get close enough to hurt me. Well…
Alessio turns his head, and our eyes lock. The air between us crackles with tension.
"What?" he asks.
I break eye contact first. "Nothing. I was just thinking, that's all."
I turn to face the road ahead, forcing my mind back to the problem at hand.
CHAPTER 14
Iguide the damaged Maserati into the Blue Pine Motel's parking lot, scanning the area for any threats. The place is exactly what I expected—run-down, dimly lit, and mostly vacant. Perfect for our needs.