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“He knows better.” Fire lit her brown eyes. “They sent me to eliminate him in prison, but I didn’t. I’m his secret weapon.”
A chill slid down my spine as I comprehended what she meant by her words. “You’re an assassin who fell in love with her target?”
“Da. It happens. I told you Nikki is sexy. Your man is Damon Pierce?”
Her sudden change of subject and bringing up Damon had my back stiffening.
“Yes. He’s my man.”
Calling him that felt strange and so right.
What I wouldn’t give to feel the comfort of his arms around me right now. He was my safe place.
“He’s like my Nikki,” she paused, holding my gaze. “And your brothers.”
Meaning dangerous. I heard the unspoken words. How many people would tell me this about him?
The rumors about Damon’s former submissive had taken their toll on him. She’d taken her own life, and her brother blamed Damon for her death, claiming he’d killed her.
“Being associated with Lucian or his friend doesn’t make him so.”
“It doesn’t make him a simple architect either.”
I narrowed my gaze at her. I’d barely met this woman, and in the last ten minutes, she’d blown my mind with her relationship drama. Now, she decided to give me personal advice.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What is he then?”
“Let’s say, for people like Nikki and others like him, including your eldest brother, Pierce is—”
“Morelli, it’s time for that call you want,” a booming voice shouted from the other side of the bars of the cell.
My stomach dropped. Of course, now would be the time I’d get my call.
Oliana shooed me with her hands. “Go, I’ll see you again soon. And remember to use the underground tunnel connected to the exit on the east side of the precinct. The media forgets about that side of the building.”
“Why do I feel you orchestrated our meeting in addition to needing a time out from your Nikki?”
“Because I did. I’ll tell you all about it the next time I see you.”
“Is that wise?”
“For you, it is.”
Chapter Two
Sophia
“You can take your call over there.” The female officer directed me to a section with booths and what looked like old-school phones with keypads.
I sat down in a seat, taking in the scent of sweat as well as the pulse of anxiety and worry permeating the air.
To my right, a girl cried into her receiver, telling whoever she was talking to about something not being her fault and that she was sorry and please bring her home.
Somewhere near me, a loud booming roar ordered someone to get them the hell out of there at that very moment, or he’d ring their necks when he got out of there. I refused to turn and identify the owner of that voice.
I made poor choices often enough. Adding more to the mix by pissing off an already irate person by looking at them because of curiosity would do me no good.
Lifting the receiver, I poised my finger over the keypad, ready to dial Lucian’s number, but paused before I pressed the first silver digit.
