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I glance over at him as the elevator begins its smooth ascent.

It seems to rise forever before it finally dings, and the doors slide open to a private foyer.

It’s quiet. Secluded. There’s only one door in front of us and Boyd’s keycard opens it.

I follow him inside and my breath catches in my throat.

It’s not just a condo. It’s a freaking penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrap around the open space like a panoramic movie screen, offering a glittering view of the entire Las Vegas strip. The sun glints off the buildings below. It’s dazzling. He even has a balcony.

“Wow, Boyd,” I breathe, walking into the main part of his condo. “My mom’s entire house would fit in here—even the upstairs and attic.”

“It’s just space,” he says, tossing his keys onto a black lacquer tray by the door, along with his cigarettes and everything else from his pockets.

“Easy to say when you don’t have much of it,” I say, my fingers trailing across a sleek sectional in the living room.

It’s dark gray leather with steel accents, and the rest of the furniture seems to match.

“The only place I’ve ever been able to call my own is my bedroom, and even that won’t be mine if I don’t make some money with my podcast. It’s either that, a real job, or college. ”

“You know that really isn’t a problem anymore, Sarah,” he insists, stripping off his tie and walking behind me. “You’re mine now. You can do anything you want, as long as you run it by me first.”

“Mm, I don’t know about that,” I murmur, turning to him. “I’ll obey you in the bedroom, because I like it, and obviously I’ll run everything by you before I talk about it on my podcast. But…”

“But what?” he asks, leaning closer, some intensity flickering in his eyes. “You’re worried I’ll snatch your freedom away? Try to own you?”

“Something like that,” I admit. “I’ve seen how Massimo is with Lea. It’s charming sometimes, but I’m not going to give up everything just because I’m yours. I can be yours, even if I don’t live in Las Vegas.”

“Then I’ll give you plenty of reasons to stay,” he rasps, putting his hands on my hips. “Maybe I’ll give you another one right now.”

“I thought you had to shower and get changed so you could put in an appearance ,” I tease.

“Nothing is more important than this,” he growls. “Us…”

My heart flutters a little. I can see it in his eyes. He means what he says. This is no fling for him. His words aren’t hollow.

“I’m not running away today, Boyd,” I sigh, looking down and resting my hands on his forearms. “And catching the Mafia Prince Killer is a lot more important than what is happening between us.”

“Maybe to you. You’re obsessed,” he says, pulling away and walking toward his bedroom. “Only thing I’m obsessed with right now is you, little girl. Finding that asshole is just part of my fucking job.”

“And you do your job well,” I say, following him and stopping at his bedroom door, admiring the space. “Which is why we need to focus on him. After that—we’ll figure it out.”

Boyd’s bedroom is as impressive as the rest of the condo. The bed looks like it is fit for a king, and I thought the beds at Salvalagio were luxurious. Gray and steel are still the theme, even in here. The sheets look like they match the sectional in the living room, down to the exact same hue.

“Did you pick all of this out?” I ask, watching as he undresses.

“No, I hired a decorator,” he answer, tossing his shirt over a chair. His condo isn’t pristine, but it isn’t messy, so even a discarded shirt looks out of place. “Why? Something you don’t like?”

“Not at all. I like everything,” I assure him, walking closer to him. “Just hard to imagine you in a store, picking out drapes and sheets that match the furniture.”

“I don’t have time for that shit,” he mumbles, turning and walking into the bathroom. “Have a look around. No reason for you to watch me shower.”

“Hmm, I can think of a few reasons,” I giggle, walking close to the bathroom and watching as he starts the shower, admiring his inked and naked body. “But I guess we don’t have time.”

Boyd growls under his breath and steps into the shower. He doesn’t have to squat in this one. It’s bigger than my bathroom at home and has multiple showerheads, including a rainfall one that hangs directly in the middle.

As much as I’d like to stand here and watch, I pull myself away so I can look at the rest of his condo.

He’s got several pieces of art. I’ve never been very interested in art, so I’m not sure if it’s expensive or just something the decorator added.

There’s an amazing kitchen. So amazing, I could imagine myself actually trying to cook something in it.

“It would probably be so bad I’d get spanked for wasting food,” I laugh as I continue to look around.

There’s a second bedroom, but it doesn’t look like anyone has ever spent a night in it.

Not in a long time, at least. The condo seems rather impersonal, overall.

No photos. No real clutter. It doesn’t look lived in.

More like a place for Boyd to sleep, when the stairs and doors in Las Vegas are safe from his latest rampage.

I’m still looking around when Boyd emerges from his bedroom, fully dressed in a pressed, tailored suit. His hair is a little damp, but it’s drying, and he’s cleaned himself up with a shave. He looks even hotter now, if that’s possible.

“Time to go?” I ask, a little disappointed we can’t stay longer.

“Yeah,” he says, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Got a text while I was in the shower. Dante’s setting up a meeting with everyone, so it’s a good thing I’m already headed that way.”

“Another day in my room,” I sigh, dropping my head a little. “People are getting tired of recaps. I might have to dip into a few of those stories you told me to keep their interest.”

“Nah, none of that goes on a live podcast.” He shakes his head. “I need to listen to those before you air anything. Besides, you’re not going to be as bored as you think. Dante told me to bring you to the meeting.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, perking up.

“Don’t get too excited,” he says. “I doubt you’ll learn anything new. Probably just a… recap .”

“Never know,” I say, keeping the excitement in my voice. “I might find out where one of the bodies is buried! Then I’ll really have some good content!”

“Watch it, little girl,” he says, spinning me around and slapping my ass.

“Ow, hey! I was just kidding,” I whine, rubbing the spot he spanked.

“I know,” he laughs, nudging me toward the door.

Another day with Boyd. Or part of it, at least.

I’m sure it’ll be a lot more exciting than sitting in my room.