Page 58

For one terrifying second she freezes stiff in my hold. Then her hands grab my shoulders, fingers digging in with desperate strength. She kisses me back with a ferocity that matches my own, clambering halfway across the console to press herself against me.
Her kiss is desperate, frantic—like she's trying to eradicate everything that happened tonight. I feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks, but her mouth is hungry, demanding. She makes a sound against my lips that shoots straight to my groin, something between a sob and a moan.
I pull her closer, one arm wrapping around her waist. My fingers find skin where the shirt has ridden up her thigh, and the contact is electric. Scorching. Her body trembles against mine as she presses herself impossibly closer.
This is madness. This is exactly what I shouldn't be doing. But with her taste on my tongue and her hands clutching at me like I'm her only lifeline in a storm, I can't remember a single fucking reason why.
Headlights cut through the darkness, twin beams sweeping across us. I tear my mouth from Melania's, my body still burning with need even as my instincts snap to high alert.
"Matteo," I rasp, recognizing the black SUV pulling up yards away.
Melania scrambles back into her seat, fingers tugging the shirt down over her smooth thighs. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths. The moment shatters between us, reality crashing back.
I exit the car first, scanning the perimeter before circling around to Melania's door. When I help her out, I feel the tremor running through her body. Her legs shake so badly she nearly stumbles against me. I can't tell if it's from the kiss, the killing, or both. Probably fucking both.
"You good?" I ask, my voice rougher than intended.
She nods once, not meeting my eyes.
Matteo approaches, concern etched on his face as he takes in Melania's state and my tense posture. "You two okay?"
"We need to move," I say, avoiding details. "Grab the laptops and chargers from the backseat."
Matteo doesn't question the order, just moves to retrieve the items. I guide Melania toward the SUV with my hand holding her from her waist, feeling each tremor that runs through her. Her skin radiates heat even through the shirt fabric.
I pull open the SUV passenger door. "Get in."
She slides into the seat without argument, her movements mechanical. I secure her seatbelt, our faces inches apart again. Her scent fills my head—fear and adrenaline mixed with something uniquely her. My hard fingers graze her soft curves as I tighten the strap and I pull back before I do something stupid. Again.
Matteo meets me halfway between the vehicles, arms loaded with our equipment. "What the hell happened?" he asks, voice low. "Damiano said there were casualties. You both look like shit."
"Convenience store. Three armed men."
"And?" Matteo presses, reading something in my expression.
I glance toward the SUV where Melania sits motionless, staring straight ahead. "She saved my life. Took out the third guy when he had a clean shot at my back."
Matteo's eyes widen. "Antonio's daughter? Killed someone?"
"Yeah." The weight of it hits me again. What she did. What it will cost her, mentally, emotionally. "Get rid of the Audi. Complete wipe down. We were never there."
I sit frozen in the SUV, fingertips touching my lips where Alessio's mouth was just pressed against mine. My heart bursts up into my throat like it's trying to escape. This shouldn't have happened.
But it felt right. Like my lips were carved specifically for his. Like every moment of my life—every decision, every mistake—was leading to that kiss.
I watch through the windshield as Alessio speaks with Matteo, their faces serious in the dusk. My body still burns at every place where Alessio touched me.
I press my palms against my eyes, trying to sort through the chaos in my mind. My hands still smell faintly of gunpowder. The scent makes my stomach roll, but not as much as it should. Not as much as the thought of Alessio lying dead on that convenience store floor.
When did he become so important to me? When did his survival become worth killing for?
The driver's door opens and Alessio slides in beside me. His presence fills the vehicle—all coiled strength and barely-contained energy.
I stare out the window as Alessio starts the engine, unable to look at him directly. The SUV pulls away from the construction site, leaving Matteo and our old car behind. My mind keeps replaying the kiss, the feel of his hands, the way my body instantly responded without my permission.
"We're about fifteen minutes away from where we're going," Alessio says, breaking the silence gruffly so that I wonder if he's as affected as I am.
I nod, still watching the darkened landscape pass by outside the window.