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I stiffen as my only ally walks away. “What do you want from me?” I whisper.
“You fuck Ciro?”
My eyes go wide. “Excuse me?”
“You let that disloyal prick touch you?”
I launch myself at him and, with the full force of my palm, slap him in the face. “I hate you.”
Before I can catch my breath, Sandro pounces. I shriek as he hauls me off my feet and over his shoulder. He crosses the patio, then reenters the villa, charging by the kitchen and across the tiled floor toward his office. All the while, I punch him in the back while asking him the same question. “Is Kelly alive?”
He drops me with a thud on top of his desk, and I blink up at him through my tears. “Did you kill her too?”
He runs his fingers across his jaw, then flinches after touching a sore spot and drops his hand. His handsome face, brutalized. How many times has he been beaten or shot at? Hurt? If I’d known who he is … what he is … I’d have been too intimidated to invite him home. I’d never have opened the door to him time and time again.
“Answer me first.” His soft yet sharp command infuriates me.
“Ciro was there for me after the explosion. He invited me to live with him and Kelly. Loaned me money to buy clothing and other necessities after everything I owned was incinerated.”
“In exchange for what?” Sandro spins me around, and then steps between my thighs. Eyes bright and body stiff, he lowers his face until it’s inches from mine.
Jealous.
He’s completely, utterly jealous.
“You’re rich, connected,” I whisper, my voice raw with emotion, “and the explosion was on the news. Yet you didn’t track me down. Never reached out to see if I was okay. You never cared about me.”
“Or maybe I was too busy getting the shit beat out of me?”
I blink. The calm, cool, and collected man who crept into my apartment under the cover of night is gone. In his place is a man consumed with raw emotion. Anger. Frustration. Jealousy.
Here is the man who punched the hole in my wall.
And he despises losing control, doesn’t he? Loathes showing anyone his human side.
I stare at him.
He glares at me.
My mind churns, and then skips to a halt as I realize he’s telling me something important.
“When?”
His jaw tightens, only reaffirming my suspicions.
“That morning? After you left my apartment?”
His silence fills the space, like a cord seconds away from snapping, as I struggle to piece together what I know. “The explosion wasn’t an accident.” As I suspected.
Nothing.
“It was an intentional attempt to kill you, except you left my apartment too soon.”
Silence.
“The men who beat you were watching.” My eyes widen. “They witnessed your departure and then attacked you.”
The room’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. And then, it hits me. “Ciro was behind this?”
