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And that he’s not done yet.
Not even a full minute later, a knock on my office door jolts me. My body tenses, the brief respite shattered. This is one of the few times I really, really don’t want to be right about Nico Vitelli coming back.
“Soph?” a voice calls through the door. It’s not Nico. It’s Cade.
My heart sinks. My almost-brother also happens to be an FBI agent—an FBI agent whom Nico no doubt just saw walk toward my office. I bet the mafia guy is going to love that.
Freaking wonderful.
I rise and cross the room, opening the door. Relief washes over me when I see that Cade is dressed in casual jeans, scuffed boots, and a worn T-shirt that does little to conceal his two full sleeves of tattoos or his build. He looks more like a club bouncer than an FBI agent.
“Thank God!”
“Soph…” Cade begins, his voice laden with hesitation.
I dismiss his concerns with a wave, sinking back into the chair with forced nonchalance. “Forget it, Cade. It was a stupid, terrible idea, and I know better than to get involved with a client. There’s no need for you to go to Harmony now. My client, she’s...made a different choice.”
She’s now in Nico Vitelli’s clutches. Or under his protection, whatever that means.
“Sophie.” His tone, firmer now, halts me mid-thought, and I’m struck by the intensity in his green eyes—a stark, haunted look I’ve never seen before.
“What’s happened?” The words barely leave my lips before a knot forms in my stomach, a prelude to dread.
“It’s Rafe,” he says, the weight of those words drawing a tight band around my chest.
Rafe, Cade, and I had grown up together, gone to school together, and gotten arrested together. Cade and I had used our time in juvie as a wake-up call. Rafe hadn’t.
I stand and amble to the window, peering out at the parking lot below, seeking solace from the view. I note absently that the black Lambo that stole my spot is now gone. Whatever Cade is about to say, I don’t want to hear it.
Because deep down, I already know.
“He’s dead, Soph.” Cade’s words fall heavy in the room, echoing with a finality that leaves me reeling.
Gone.
Just like that. My gut twists with pain for the wasted potential of a life once so closely intertwined with my own.
God damn you, Rafe.
Chapter Five
Nico
Forty-eight hours have passed since I stood in Sophie Kellan's office, and now I find myself standing at the front door of her small redbrick bungalow. I haven’t slept in two days.
I knew it would be hard. I just never imagined it’d be physically impossible to do it. Everything was ready. Clean-up crew in place. All the street cameras disabled. And I was about as useful as an unloaded gun. I couldn’t hurt her. Yet I really can’t afford to let her live.
Father’s cryptic words now echo with newfound clarity. Self-awareness is indeed a virtue.
It was a mistake seeing her. Talking to her. She’s beautiful no doubt, even more so in person. But I’ve seen hundreds of beautiful women. It’s not just the way she looks, it’s the way I react to her. She opens her sexy, sassy mouth and I get an insane desire to shut it—with me.
And it’s her eyes too. Those amber eyes are like coals of fire that see too much. She looked at me like she was trained to do it. Like she was reading my thoughts. Stared at my left hand like she was controlling the damn thing. No wonder the fucking thing couldn’t move.
I’ve always thought myself capable of anything, no matter how depraved, because in my book, the end always justifies the means. But as I hightailed it out of her office, it dawned on me: I need a new plan and, evidently, a crash course in self-awareness.
And so, over the past two days, I’ve watched her. Had her followed, and her phones bugged. I’ve sat outside her goddamned house all night and watched as the same tatted guy from her office building went in, then left an hour later—a booty call, no doubt. And no wonder. The woman radiates raw, sheet-rending sex all the way from her ‘fuck off’ amber eyes and pouty lips, right down to her stiletto heels.
Still. I have a decision to make. The fact that every single time I see her, my body takes great joy in reminding me of how gorgeous he thinks Sophie Kellan is, doesn’t matter. I can’t stalk her forever. So until I know what to do with her, she’s coming with me.
