Page 96 of Vicious Temptation

“Sure it wasn’t.” His expression tells me he doesn’t believe a word of it, but thankfully, he knows me well enough not to push me when I’m not ready to talk. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to my cheek. “You know you don’t always have to pretend you’re fine with us, right?”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Right.”

I shove his shoulder, and he laughs as he gets to his feet.

“I gotta go. I promised Zara I’d bust her out of dance camp today and take her to the zoo.”

I laugh as I follow him toward the door, leaving my untouched coffee on the table.

“Didn’t they just get back into town two days ago? And you’re already pulling her out?”

“That,” he says smugly as he grabs his keys, “is exactly what I’m here for.”

“You’re a terrible influence.”

“I prefer fun older brother.”

“Of course you do.” I pull him into a hug. “Give Zara a big kiss from me and tell her I’ll see her soon.”

“Will do.”

With one last squeeze, Matteo disappears into the hallway.

It isn’t until I close my front door that something clicks. If no one knows about my arrest, how the hell did the charges get dropped so quickly? I hurry across the living room to find my phone. Val needs to know, but maybe Maksim pulled strings without telling her.

“That has to be it,” I mutter to myself.

The second I unlock my screen, a knock echoes through the condo, and I turn toward the door, assuming Matteo has probably forgotten something.

“I’m coming,” I yell, hopping over an ottoman and jogging across the room for the second time in less than a minute.

Expecting to find my cousin, I swing open the door, only to come face-to-face with the very man I spent half the night dreaming about, bleeding to death in my arms.

All I can do is stare at Thiago while my brain catches up with the fact that he’s actually standing here.

I peer around his shoulder before glancing down at my phone. “How did you get up here? I never received a notification.”

He tries to step forward, but I don’t budge. I always have to tilt my head back to look at this man, and I hate what that alone does to my insides.

“Matteo let me up,” he says, making another attempt to cross the threshold.

Of course Matteo fucking did. He gave me no warning or heads-up, just casually delivered a six-foot-six emotional crisis to my front door.

I place my hands on my hips and scowl at him. I can’t tell whether I’m pissed at Thiago or just angry at life and everything swirling around me right now. It doesn’t help that every time I look at his face, I see the nightmare.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“Look, I’m not exactly in the mood for guests. I have important things to deal with and⁠—”

“Remi, we both know that’s bullshit.”

My mouth parts. “Excuse you?”

“I just want to talk,” he says, his voice gentler. “Give me ten minutes, and then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”