Page 14 of Single Mom's Mafia Daddies

Alessio held me down. His chest pressed into my back, both his hands covering my head and neck. His legs draped over mine, pinning me. Drops of blood splattered the floor aroundmy head. Not my blood, I realized when Alessio grunted. “I had one installed for you. In the closet behind your desk. Leave the phone in the cradle and dial eight one nine. That will open the door.”

Eight one nine. His birthday. Tears burned my throat, along with dust and grit. Another series of gunshots ripped through the shop, ripping apart dresses and sending fabric floating in every direction. Footsteps thundered into the shop, the floor beneath my cheek shaking with the impact. Seven masked men stormed our way, each of them dressed in tactical black and carrying weapons I’d only ever seen on TV.

“You’re impossible.”

He ignored the barb of my words and raised his head a few inches to peer over the narrow ledge separating us from the guns. “Lila, when I say go.” Alessio rolled off me and helped me scoot into a better position. Cuts marred his cheeks, his forehead, and his arms. Streams of blood flowed from every wound, and his face drew tight when he looked me over.

I’d heard the phrase “if looks could kill” but never understood it until now. Alessio looked murderous, like he was about to storm all eight men with nothing but his bare hands.

“You’re coming with me,” I whispered into his ear, my hand finding his and squeezing tight.

He started to shake his head, the fire in his eyes turning them silver. “Let’s go.”

We bolted into the office. Alessio slammed the door, and I raced for the phone, praying my fingers didn’t shake so much I missed the numbers.

I dialed them frantically, waiting with my breath held, until the wooden panel beside my desk split open and a door appeared.

“Inside.” Alessio hooked me around the waist and carried me into the small box. “Put your hand here.” He grabbed my palmand pressed it against a green square on the wall. “That opens and closes the door from this side.”

The door closed with a sudden silence that was almost as frightening as the fact that Alessio had somehow managed to install this whole thing—last night? Years ago when I opened my store?—without my knowledge.

Adrenaline and panic plowed into me with enough force to send me sideways. I leaned forward and gripped my knees, only then realizing I was still naked from the waist down. I shot a look at Alessio. He’d managed to zip his pants, and except for the wounds, looked totally unaffected by the unconscionable act of violence we’d witnessed.

“Here. Let me help.” He unwound my pants from my neck and held them out. “Hold onto me. I have you, Lila. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You did.” The stupid, ridiculous tears threatened. I sucked them back and concentrated on lifting my leg and sliding it into my pants.

Alessio raised his head, the murder and mayhem slipping into something warm, something more dangerous than the man I’d glimpsed when the intruders burst into my shop. “I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough.” I fisted his shirt in my fingers long enough to catch my balance then let go while I still had the strength. “Not nearly good enough.”

“I know.” Sorrow laced his tone.

Steps sounded outside the panel, and Alessio held a finger to his lips. He drew me into the back corner, tucked me to his chest, and put his back to the door. If anyone came through, they’d find him a prime target. I tried to push him away. “Can they get in here?”

“Only if they find a way to override the system,” he promised in a barely there whisper. “They’re not smart enough for that. They won’t find you.”

Then why did he spend so much energy trying to hide me? The footsteps turned into raised voices. “Where’d they go?”

“Out the back?” That voice sounded uncertain but determined. A sound I recognized as the magazine from a gun falling and another replacing it sent a tremor through me. They were reloading. While we hid in here and hoped Alessio hadn’t underestimated their brainpower, they were reloading and preparing to kill us.

“Why are they after us?” My words barely made it out of my mouth, but Alessio heard.

He stiffened against me, his body becoming hard and unyielding. “They’re not important. Just a few old enemies of mine.”

“Enemies?” I couldn’t stop the scoff. “You’re a literature professor’s assistant. What kind of enemies could you possibly have?”

“Let’s wait until we don’t have men with guns actively hunting us before we discuss my career choices.” A smirk lifted one side of his mouth.

Wait. I could see him. How was that possible when we were stuffed inside a box in the walls. And how had he found this much room when my store was stuck literally a foot from my neighbors. We shared a freaking wall. I craned my neck to look up past his handsome face. Two small bulbs within arm’s reach overhead provided a tiny bit of light. I leaned past his shoulder and stretched out a hand. My fingertips brushed the other wall, then the walls on either side.

“You have some serious explaining to do.”

“And I will.” His thumb brushed over my cheek. “You’re bleeding. We’ll need to clean that up.”

“Too bad you didn’t install a sink in here. Maybe a shower and some food.” I was going for sarcastic, but Alessio shrugged.

“We were on a time crunch. I’ll take care of it in case you need it again.”