“Yeah.”
The answer was immediate.Unqualified.
That unsettled her more than it should have.
She glanced down at herself.Someone had taken her jacket, folded it neatly over the chair.Her bag sat on the table within reach.
“Luca,” she said, when his eyes followed her gaze.“If you took anything—”
“We didn’t,” Luca cut in.“Your stuff’s untouched.Including the drive.”
Her fingers curled into the sheet.Relief washed through her, sharp enough to sting.
“Kol insisted,” he added dryly.“Said if we wanted you to trust us, stealing your leverage would be a stupid fucking way to start.I was all for taking it and then putting it back and pretending we didn’t do shit.”
She snorted before she could stop herself, then winced.
“Still not convinced,” she said.
“That’s fine,” Luca replied.“You don’t have to trust us yet.Just don’t do anything reckless.”
Her gaze hardened.“Like what?”
“Like trying to walk out with cracked ribs and no backup.”
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, she asked, “Why are you really helping me?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room, stopping just short of the bed.He didn’t loom.Didn’t crowd.Just existed there, solid and immovable.
“Because men like your boss count on women being weaker than them and alone,” he said.“And because he crossed a line we never would.”
“Lots of men cross lines,” she said quietly.
“That is true,” Luca said with a nod, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.“Even us.We break more laws than most, and we sure as shit have benefited from that.But there are just some lines we do not cross, and we don’t let others get away with crossing them.Not with us watching.”
That sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with pain.
A knock sounded softly at the door before either of them could speak again.
Mateo stepped in first, carrying two coffees and the faint scent of cold night air with him.Up close, he was even broader than he’d looked in the car, shoulders filling the doorway like he’d been built to block it.Dark hair was cropped short at the sides, longer on top and shoved back like he never bothered with a mirror, and his eyes were a warm brown that missed nothing.Ink crept up from beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt—black and bold.
“You’re awake,” he said, tone blunt but not unkind.“Good.Means you didn’t crack anything important.”
She raised an eyebrow.“I feel deeply reassured.”
Mateo huffed a laugh and set one of the cups down.“You should be.I’ve seen worse walk away.”
Kol followed him in, silent as ever, phone in hand.He was lean where Mateo was solid, all sharp lines and contained energy, dark hair cut close and eyes a cool, unreadable grey that flicked over her like a scanner before settling back into stillness.He paused just inside the room, eyes flicking to her with quick, sharp interest.
“You ran, and took help when it was offered,” he said.“Not many people do that right.”
“Wasn’t pretty,” she replied.
“No, but it was effective,” Kol said, which sounded like praise coming from him.
