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Until that moment came, I wouldn’t be able to relax. I wouldn’t be able to sleep even with Bosco beside me. That psychopath was out there, and he wanted me—with terrible intentions. He was no different from the men in the alleyway, except he wanted to be the one to enjoy me. A man who had no problem pissing off Bosco Roth either had to be crazy or more powerful than he let on.

When I didn’t say anything, Bosco cupped my face. “Beautiful, look at me.”

“I am…”

“Really look at me.”

There was a haze in my eyes because I kept thinking about that gargoyle in the rain, ready to feast on my flesh. I concentrated on the man blanketing me with affection and security, trying to forget about the monster that wanted to prey on me.

“I would never let anything happen to you.” His thumb softly grazed my cheek. “My men wouldn’t have let anything happen to you. He would have to go through all my security and me before he came anywhere near you. Those are impossible odds. I would die before I’d let that happen.” It was a sweet confession, something that would touch my heart if I weren’t still disturbed by what I’d witnessed that afternoon.

I stared at his handsome face above me, seeing the concern burn in his eyes. My fingers felt his powerful shoulders and his thick arms, remembering that this man had complete control over the city. Regardless of what trick that horrible man had up his sleeve, he wouldn’t be able to overpower Bosco. “I know…”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” I whispered.

“Like you’re scared.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Where’s the fighter in the alleyway? Where’s that woman?”

“I am a fighter,” I said quietly. “If someone comes after me, I’ll hold my own. But that’s not what happened, Bosco. That man perched on a balcony and stared down at me like a bird preparing to swoop down on his prey. He’s stalking me. He’s obsessed with me. He wants me—and he wants me to know that. They call him The Butcher for a reason. He’s a psychopath, unpredictable and impossible to understand. He was like an animal playing with his food. Yes, I’m scared…and no one would judge me for being scared.” Fear was a survival instinct, and my body was telling me this was serious shit. “Maybe I should call my father…” My family managed to overcome everything. Maybe I should get them involved.

His gaze saddened as he listened to me. “Do what you want, Beautiful. But I promise you, he’ll be dead within twenty-four hours. There’s no reason to get anyone else involved. There’s never been an enemy I couldn’t defeat with the simple wave of my wrist. This guy is no different.”

“Then why would he blatantly act that way? He’s obviously not afraid of you.”

He tilted his head slightly as he tried to think of an answer. “This man is different from most. They say he’s out of his mind. His actions can’t be predicted because there’s no logical motivation. He clearly has mental issues. He probably acted on instinct without understanding the full consequences of his actions. Ronan discouraged me from admitting him to the casino, but I didn’t listen. I just wanted his money—and that was a mistake.”

“Great…so he really is a psychopath.”

“A psychopath that will be dead very soon.” His fingers touched my chin. “I’m a man who keeps his promises. I promise you he’ll be dead within a day. You can see the body yourself. Do you trust me, Beautiful? Do you believe me?” He gave me a desperate look, like he wanted me to place all my faith in his hands. He wanted me to feel safe, to believe in the reputation he’d built for himself.

This was the same man who’d asked for compensation for saving my life, the same one who’d showed up at my shop and my apartment. He cornered me then asked for more, securing me for three months. It would be easy to say he was a dangerous man, but that didn’t change anything. I trusted him more than anyone else on this earth. “Yes…I trust you.”

I stayed at the penthouse the following day, not going to work even though my shop was supposed to be open. It was raining anyway, so there probably wouldn’t be many people stopping by for a visit.

Bosco stayed home with me, doing all his work via his laptop and the phone.

The Butcher hadn’t appeared yet.

Bosco said he would be dead in twenty-four hours, and the deadline was fast approaching. I was concerned that he hadn’t been located yet, that this monster had managed to slip through Bosco’s men posted all over the city. I didn’t mention him as the day passed, not wanting to talk about the freak that loomed over me in the rain.

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