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When Giorgio came into my room, I was closing up my suitcases knowing there were things I’d regret not taking with me.

“I still have to pack up my art studio.”

Giorgio sighed. “I’ll help so we can get on with it.”

“You’ll have to do exactly what I say.”

“About packing your art I will. About everything else, I’m the one in control.”

“I remember how much you like control.” His expression heated before he turned away.

With him helping, the packing didn’t take as long as I’d anticipated. After delivering a loudly protesting Mittens to Tara, I tried to help load the car. Giorgio just got annoyed with my inability to read his mind about where everything should go and told me to let him handle it.

As he slid an easel in on top of the bags in the back, his shirt rose up, and I saw the gun tucked into his waistband.

“You’re caring a gun?”

“Two guns and a knife.”

I gave him a thorough once-over, but I couldn’t detect any other weapons.

“How do you think this works? I’m here to protect you.”

“I’m just… nervous around guns. My stepfather hunts, and I… I don’t like it.”

“Well, I’m very comfortable around guns. In fact, I’m not comfortable if I don’t have at least one on me. I’ve been hired to protect you, so expect me to be armed.”

“I just don’t…”

“This is not negotiable. If you’re worried about your own safety, let me assure you no matter how much you piss me off, I won’t be aiming for you. As for anyone who comes for you, they’ll learn I never miss.”

“Never?” The word came out strangled.

He looked into my eyes, and the intensity of his gaze made my breath catch. “Never.”

Damn. Why was that so fucking hot?

Giorgio lifted a box of objects for my sculptures. He studied the car and made a sound of disgust before setting it back down and pulling out some of the bags. He packed and repacked the car multiple times to fit everything in. By the time we got on the road, he was clearly furious.

I pulled out my phone and paired it with the car’s sound system.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Giorgio asked.

“I was going to play some music. You didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk.”

“I’m rarely in the mood to talk. I like silence.”

“I like music.”

He groaned. I doubt he meant for it to sound sexual, but it sure as fuck did. I wondered what I could do to make him repeat that sound. I ignored his protest and continued scrolling through my music. I smiled when I found my ’80s and ’90s pop divas playlist. I clicked shuffle and my favorite Britney tune blared out.

Giorgio glanced at me before looking back at the road. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t love Britney?”

He hit the power button on the sound system, turning it off.

“I’m not going to sit here in silence for the whole drive.”

“Can’t you play a game on your phone or something like a normal person?”

“Normal people listen to music in the car.”

“Entertain yourself. I don’t feel like talking or listening to your music.”

“I’m the client, and I feel like listening to music.”

7

Giorgio

We hadn’t even gotten to the cabin yet, and I was ready to kill him. “Are you trying to piss me off? Do you want me gone that badly?” Before he could answer, I held up a hand. “No. Don’t answer that.”

“I thought you were going to pass me off to someone else.”

“That’s not going to work out.” I’d called X with every intention of doing just that, but as we talked more about the situation with the stalker, I’d found myself unable to do it. X had found connections between Hendon and a dirty congressman—the same congressman whose brother, Dennis Swain, I’d helped the Marchesi family eliminate several months ago. Swain was one of the leaders in a human trafficking ring, and X and I had strong suspicions the congressman was also involved. We’d been working to bring down the rest of the ring, but the men and women involved were damn good at protecting themselves. If Hendon was involved with that group, Lane needed topnotch protection.

Niall had messaged me. He was days away from being free to assist me, and Leo’s situation at the shop hadn’t improved. That meant Lane needed my protection. I owed it to X to stay. I’d been captured, tortured, and asked to do things no one should come back from sane, and I’d survived. I could handle a week or two with a hot, bratty twink I had to keep my hands off, even if he was trying to drive me crazy.

I’d called Devil’s boyfriend, Joe, and asked him to do some digging for me. Joe had resigned from the police force after investigating corruption that had led to him being captured by Swain. He’d contacted me a few months ago, letting me know he was up for working with Vigilance whenever we needed him. I suspected both Devil and Joe would want in on this mission. Joe was a damn good investigator, and I had no doubt he’d be able to figure out who Alan was connected to and whether his pursuit of Lane was personal or something bigger.

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