Page 120 of Pietro

"You shouldn't be here." Pietro stalks toward my desk, fury radiating from every line of his body. "I told you to stay at the compound."

"And I told you I needed to work." I keep typing, even though the numbers mean nothing right now. "These invoices won't process themselves."

"Fuck the invoices." He plants his palms on my desk, leaning over me. "Declan knows you're alive. Knows you're with me. You think he won't come for you?"

"He got what he wanted. Pier forty-seven access." I finally meet his eyes. They're wild, darker than usual. He hasn't slept. Neither have I. "That deal was stupid, by the way."

"It got Michael back."

"It gives him legitimate cover for whatever he's really moving through those docks."

Pietro's jaw works. "You think I don't know that? You think I handed over millions in territory for a child's life without considering the consequences?"

"I think you're so focused on hunting him down that you're not thinking strategically." The words come out sharper than intended. "Liam says you've had every soldier in the city looking for him since four this morning."

"He threatened you."

"He's threatened me before." My voice cracks slightly. I clear my throat, hating the weakness. "This isn't new."

"It is now." Pietro rounds the desk, spinning my chair to face him. "Now he dies for even looking at you wrong."

"He's working alone." I try not thinking about whatever that means for us, focusing on facts instead of feelings. "Whatever operation he's running, it's not with Murphy backing anymore."

Pietro's eyes narrow. "How do you know?"

"The way he talked. The crew he had—hired muscle, not Murphy soldiers. And he called me princess, not O'Sullivan."I turn back to my computer, needing distance from Pietro's intensity. "He doesn't have the power structure anymore. When he lost Connor's backing, he lost his position. The Murphys might use him for specific jobs, but he's not inner circle anymore."

"Good. Makes him easier to kill."

"Pietro—"

"No." He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. "He put his hands on you. Tried to kill you. Then last night, he dared to speak your mother's name. He's dead. The only question is how much he suffers first."

"There's something else." I pull away from his grip. "Connor never retaliated against Declan. After what he did to me, after the betrayal—Connor did nothing. Declan betrayed the family. Used me to get information. Tried to murder Connor's daughter." I laugh, but it's bitter, hollow. "Even if Connor blamed me for bringing Declan in, he should have hunted him down. That's how it works. Blood for blood. But Declan's still breathing."

"Maybe Connor couldn't find him."

"Maybe. And that's why I think he operates without Murphy's back. It would have been easier tracking him on wherever the Murphy's are."

Pietro's hands frame my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones. "You need to calm down."

"I am calm."

"Your pulse is racing." His thumb finds the spot on my throat where my heartbeat betrays me. "I can feel it."

"That's not from fear."

His expression transforms. Rage giving way to desire for a fleeting instant. Then his mouth is on mine, firm and possessive, swallowing whatever protest I might have made.

When he pulls back, I'm breathless.

"I'm going to take care of it soon." His forehead rests against mine. "Declan, Connor, all of it. But right now, I need you safe."

"I'm in your building. Surrounded by your security."

"Not enough." He straightens, adjusting his tie. "After I handle the next meeting, we're going back to the compound. No arguments."

"Pietro—"