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“You’d be surprised how much people don’t notice.” It wasn’t entirely a surprise to me. Between the auction house’s stone walls, the heavily soundproofed inner walls, and the extreme traffic noise outside, the gunfire had been mistaken for old cars backfiring. My men had cleaned up the mess. Everything else could be explained away.
“Yikes. Makes me wonder what I’ve just walked past without thinking anything was up.” She winced, and I chuckled again as I pulled her car into the underground parking garage.
“Probably a few things. If the criminals involved are discreet enough, you could walk past a murder without realizing it is going on.” That didn’t seem to comfort her. “However, you do seem pretty observant, just inexperienced. It’s possible you haven’t missed much of anything without noticing it.”
“Well, that’s kind of terrifying,” she said with a sarcastic tone.
I pressed my lips together against open laughter and steered us into one of the open parking spaces. “I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I take your safety, and that of my son, very seriously. I know how to watch for trouble, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep it away from you. I want you to look forward to seeing me, not fear the next time it happens. That’s very important to me.”
Her mouth worked, and she glanced from me down to her hands. “I noticed, but it’s going to take me some time to get over this. And probably some alcohol.”
I tutted at her gently. “I might have to drive you home if you keep talking about that. It’s not an issue if you get a bit drunk on me, but it will be if you drive.”
“I guess that’s fair.” Her voice was shaky. I wanted to slip an arm around her, but I was busy parking the car. Done, I went around and opened her door for her.
“I can’t believe I just survived that,” she mumbled as I helped her out of the car. She was shaking. She looked ready to cry. But she was still here, still with me.
“I was not going to let them harm you,” I murmured as I helped her toward the elevator.
She wiped a tear, hanging onto me desperately. I felt another stab of guilt.
“I’m sorry,” I continued softly. “I did not want to expose you to the dangers of living in my world.”
“Seems to me it’s a package deal.” She choked slightly. “Does that cordite smell ever get out of people’s clothes?”
“It may take dry cleaning.” I smiled apologetically. “I’ll handle it, and supply you with a substitute.”
She blinked up at me, then shook her head. “I don’t even know why I brought that up.”
“Because talking about clothing care is easier than talking about what just happened.” We stepped into the elevator together. “But we must.”
I didn’t want totalkright now. The adrenaline and triumph of the fight had set my blood on fire. I regretted being forced to kill, of course, but the Puerto Ricans had bought their own deaths by taking aim at me—and at Olivia. And despite my distaste for taking life unneeded, I was never going to hesitate. Not ever, and certainly not with Olivia’s safety on the line.
And now, in the aftermath of the fight and the chase, I wanted my woman, in my bed.
But not until I knew she was all right.
“I’m just glad they can’t easily trace the car back to me.” She smoothed back her hair, fingers trembling. “Oh God. What if they do?”
“It’s quite simple, my dear,” I insisted gently. “You and my son will go into hiding under my protection while we arrange for your leave of absence from work for health reasons. I’ll even ensure the place you move to is nicer than the one you have now, and certainly more secure.”
I saw her open her mouth to protest my generosity, and held up a silencing finger. She blinked, then sighed, caving with a sad but grateful little smile.
“If I do not make these allowances for your safety, I suspect you would flee the area entirely for my son’s protection and your own. You’re too smart to stick around if you’re in danger.”
“That’s true. Michael’s not going to like it if we suddenly have to move and hide. I’d do it, but, Viktor…what’s happening? Who were those men, and why did they take the risk of attacking you in broad daylight?”
The elevator stopped at the fifth floor, and I stepped out with my arm around her. “Inside for that conversation,” I insisted, and she nodded. Unit 503 was one of my private safehouses. I swiped a keycard and let her in, following and locking up behind her.
“I have mentioned that there may be trouble brewing in the streets in this region before,” I said quietly as I led her from the entryway to the great room that took up most of the space.
It was clean and cozy, with insulated curtains on the windows, hardwood floors, and a huge couch separating the living and dining areas. The whole thing was done in muted creams and browns to go with the woodwork—not my favorite, but easily replaced if something unexpectedly messy happened. I had used a safehouse before to wait for my men to fetch one of our medics, and bled generously on the couch in the process. It would have been much harder to replace on short notice if it had been, say, royal purple velvet.
“Yes, you did. You didn’t elaborate. I was glad at the time, but right now I’m worried about what happens if I’m caught up in this against my will from now on.”
I felt my heart sink a little at her words. I didn’t want her to run from me. “I’m still hoping that we can avoid that,” I said quietly. “Many of us are married, and of those, most avoid including their wives in Bratva matters. Lovers, even more so.”
That sad smile again. “Is that what we are?”
