Page 38 of Vega

Earlier, the electronic lock on the service door had been easy to bypass, but the interior camera beside it had required more planning. A looping signal now showed an empty corridor instead of anything happening in real time.

I carried Sonnet through her kitchen and into the narrow laundry room. The utility door at the rear opened into a staff corridor shared by the units on her floor. Most residents probably didn’t know it existed. But I did.

The corridor was dim, concrete, and empty. I pulled the door closed behind us and headed toward the service stairwell instead of the elevator. The public elevators required key access and recorded every floor. The service stairs led directly to the basement parking level without passing the front desk.

Sonnet’s head rested against my chest as I moved down the stairs. Her hair smelled faintly like vanilla and whatever shampoo she used. One of her hands lay against my shirt, harmless now, though the scratches on my face proved how much damage it could do when she was awake.

The sound of a door opening above me made me stop. Men’s voices carried into the stairwell.

Roman’s people had reached her floor.

I continued downward, moving quickly without allowing Sonnet’s head or legs to strike the railing. By the time they discovered her condo empty, I needed to be gone.

The basement level had two exits. One led into the residents’ garage, where cameras tracked every vehicle. The other opened into a delivery bay used for trash collection and building supplies.

I chose the delivery bay. My truck waited behind the neighboring property, out of view of the building’s security system. I crossed the narrow service lane with Sonnet in my arms and placed her carefully across the back seat.

I secured her seat belt and placed her tote on the floor.

I got behind the wheel and pulled away and checked the rearview mirror.

Sonnet remained unconscious.

Looking at her, I smiled because she had fought harder than most men I had handled.

Now she was my responsibility. But I couldn’t understand why that thought felt less like business and more like a promise.

8

VEGARRO “VEGA” MORETTI

Iplaced Sonnet in the guest bedroom at one of my secluded properties and left her unrestrained. But I had taken her phone and Apple watch from her.

The house sat on so many acres outside the city that nobody would hear her scream, but close enough that I could get here from the city fast. The property was registered under a company that couldn’t be traced directly to me, and the nearest neighbor lived beyond a wall of trees.

Sonnet lay in the center of the bed with her glasses folded on the nightstand. She looked peaceful, which didn’t match the woman who had tried to take out my eyes with her keys less than two hours earlier.

While she slept, I made sure the room had everything she might need. I filled the dresser with lounge sets, T-shirts, sweatshirts, underwear, bras, and pajamas in the sizes she seemed to wear. The bathroom cabinet had new toothbrushes, skin products, hair products, feminine supplies, and enough toiletries to keep her from needing anything outside the room.

I placed the snacks I had watched her buy herself on the dresser; popcorn, granola bars, and chocolate-covered almonds. Beside them, I stacked the books she had picked up at Da Book Joint but returned to the shelves before checking out.

I stood near the foot of the bed and studied her. Beautiful wasn’t a strong enough word. I had seen more beautiful women than I could count. Being tall, built, handsome, and paid meant I never had to search hard for attention. Women approached me. Some tried to hide how eager they were. Most didn’t bother.

I had always had my choice. With Sonnet, I felt like the thirsty and desperate one.

She had done nothing to earn that kind of interest. But I still couldn’t stop looking at her.

Her lashes rested against her cheeks. Her full lips were slightly parted, and her hair spread across the pillow around her face. Even unconscious, there was something soft and innocent about her that made every possessive part of me pay attention.

Suddenly, her fingers began to move against the comforter.

I stepped back, watching as Sonnet’s eyes opened slowly. Confusion crossed her face as she looked toward the unfamiliar ceiling. She turned her head, spotted the furniture, then pushed herself upright.

Her gaze landed on me and the black pooh-shiesty mask covering everything except my eyes.

She screamed.

Before I could say a word, she snatched the lamp from the nightstand and threw it.