Chapter 11

MIA

M y supplies came in handy, after all.

At Lorenzo's growled insistence, I pulled out a pack of substantial plastic bin bags.

He took them from me, then banished me from the study with a silent finger pointing to the door.

‘I can handle -.'

‘It's me who can't deal with your involvement in this shit, bella,' he murmured, his resentment dropping for a moment to share some modicum of concern for me. ‘You've already been through hell, so take some time out, make a cup of coffee, and sit awhile I do the necessary.'

He'd rolled up the sleeves of his exquisite shirt, and I was transfixed by the sight of his sinewed arms and lean, long fingers.

He'd pushed his hands into the disposable gloves I'd found in my supplies.

My eyes were glued to him as he shook out the large bags in a scene resembling one from a chilling true crime drama.

He moved with calm deliberation, which told me he often dealt with the seamier side of life. Despite his pristine appearance, he was used to getting filthy and was a formidable enemy when crossed.

My face flushed at the incongruousness of my reaction to this man's sensual ruthlessness.

‘Mia, go.'

He growled the words without glancing at me.

Jolted from my unbidden lusting after him, I made a hasty retreat.

With lips pressed together, I tracked to the kitchen, where I stood against a counter, waiting for the coffee to brew.

Lorenzo's footsteps sounded to and from the study and garage, and I assumed he was stashing our supine guests in the carport.

I prepared my cup and sipped it, welcoming its soothing calmness, which counteracted the shivers of apprehension skating over me and the growing sense that I was a mere pawn in a game much more significant than me.

On a whim, I also poured a mug for Lorenzo, keeping it black and bitter.

‘Come back in.'

His drawl jarred me out of my trance as he appeared under the arch between the living area and kitchen, eyes dark, icy, levelled on me.

I pointed my chin at his waiting cup of steaming coffee.

His eyes narrowed as he shoved his gloves off his hands.

He moved to the sink, washed up, and returned for his beverage, downing it in one go, eyes fixed on me.

Setting the empty mug on the table, he jerked his head and led the way back to the den.

Lorenzo turned to me as we entered his office. ‘I'll pay you well to clean whatever shit you can off my study floor.'

‘It's marble and will wash right out,' I proffered.

He gave me a narrowed glance, bit his lower lip and raised his chin in assent.

I glanced with an arched brow around the room.

The pair of assailants' bodies were gone.

Mauri was now out cold on the sofa. After checking his bandage, I turned to cleaning.

Lorenzo had wiped most of the blood from the floor.

Still, some stains remained, so I masked and sprayed a generous amount of an eco-friendly natural bleach alternative and got to scrubbing.

The dried edges of the crimson blemishes mocked my futile efforts to erase them, each swipe of the cloth bringing me no closer to absolution.

Lorenzo stood in the doorway, observing me with his inscrutable gaze. His eyes glittered with an unknown emotion, which flitted close to respect as I moved with efficiency and silent focus.

The rhythmic sound of my cleaning was the only thing breaking the heavy silence enveloping us. After what appeared like an eternity, I managed to rid the floor of its gruesome blemishes.

I stepped back to survey my work. Exhaustion washed over me, leaving me drained and hollow.

Lorenzo's steady regard bore into me, his unreadable expression making me uneasy.

‘Well done,' he rasped at last, his eyes inscrutable as he stared at me.

His calm demeanour and ability to navigate this chaos with such ease impressed and unnerved me.

‘How do you feel about your shot?'

I blinked at him, not sure what he meant.

‘Bella, I'm asking if you're distressed at shooting the man?'

I raised my head, understanding his question. ‘If you're asking if I'm going to fall apart, I will not. I'm familiar with weapons, and causing a little injury to prevent a lot more death is good work.'

He huffed. ‘Badass. How about what I did?'

‘I've seen violence before, Lorenzo.'

‘I surmised as much.'

‘While shooting at a man who is trying to murder you is not something I condone, there's not a lot of room for agency when someone is aiming to kill you. You had to take a clear course of action to make them stop, and there were no real alternatives besides returning fire. How you absolve yourself is your own doing.'

His eyes narrowed, and he scoffed again. ‘You're something else, Mia.'

The sound of a car pulling up outside broke through our locked gaze.

Moments later, the doorbell rang.

‘Stay here,' Lorenzo murmured.

I had no plans to do otherwise.

I listened as he tracked the front door and turned on the security feed beside the touch-pad.

A series of murmurs were exchanged, and the entryway swung open.

Unable to help myself, I peeked out through a crack in the study door

Mauri's ex-military contacts had arrived. They were a rough-looking bunch, all muscle and tattoos, but their eyes held a steely tenacity.

‘Mauri's out cold,' Lorenzo told them.

One of the individuals said, ‘He gave us the breakdown, so that's alright. Our body shop will take care of it.'

‘Specifics, please,' Lorenzo murmured, his eyes narrowed, his stance wary.

‘We'll disappear it at our funeral home, cremate it. It'll be gone as if it'd never been here.'

‘One's alive,' Lorenzo stated. ‘Do you have somewhere you can hold him until I decide what to do with him?'

The late-night guests whispered.

‘I'll pay what you ask,' Lorenzo sighed.

‘We've got safe houses,' they muttered.

More murmurs ensued, and an agreement was reached. The men strode past the door as I hid behind and disappeared towards the garage.

Serenaded by Mauri's sonorous snores, I stayed hidden, my ear inclined to the indistinct voices and thumps from the carport.

In time, Lorenzo returned to the study, his gaze flickering over my face, settling on a point beyond me.

‘Bene,' he said, his voice devoid of warmth. ‘ They're gone, packages in tow.'

I met his gaze as his eyes searched mine.

‘Grazie, for your help,' he grunted. ‘You did well,' he added.

I took a shaky breath as an indecipherable expression flashed on his face.

Was it worry? Relief? Concern?

Or perhaps something darker lurking beneath the surface? Whatever it was, it was wiser not to pry. In this world of shadows and secrets, ignorance would be my shield.

He prowled further into the room, stopping for a moment to check on his supine bodyguard.

Turning to me, he raised his chin. ‘We've had enough excitement for tonight. Pick one of the guest bedrooms upstairs and stay put. We'll order food, supplies, and anything we require. Savvy?'

He removed his wallet from his trouser pocket, opened it and tossed a credit card on the table.

‘In the morning, find all you want online - clothes, shoes, whatever - but have it delivered. I believe we have a secure parcel delivery box at the gate. Only Mauri or I will retrieve any deliveries. Is that clear?'

‘I have a work gig at 11 a.m. and class in the afternoon.'

‘You can't leave,' he reiterated, his jaw tightening. ‘Reschedule, re-book, shift your calendar for the rest of the week until I can be sure you'll be safe.'

He growled the words, frustration on his cold face. ‘Don't worry about money either; you'll be well compensated for your troubles.'

‘My phone, bag, one change of clothes and laptop are in the van outside,' I whispered.

He stared at me for a beat. ‘Give me your keys. I'll fetch them.'

I hesitated, then rooted for the bunched set in my pocket and handed them to him. My eyes locked on him as he left the room, his gaze icy.

He disappeared into the night, leaving me alone with Mauri in the study.

In the stillness that followed, I wondered again what I had gotten myself into, pissed off at being embroiled in the same shit I'd worked so hard in my adult life to get away from.

Lorenzo returned with my bag and laptop, tossing them on the table with a thump.

‘Keep your communications limited to strictly need to know, and find out whether you can log in online to your classes,' he demanded, his eyes never leaving mine.

I nodded without argument, sensing it was pointless to resist.

Lorenzo's eyes shut for a beat. When he opened them, his expression was unreadable once more.

‘Go upstairs, get some sleep,' he growled.

I dipped my head, overcome with physical and emotional exhaustion.

In silence, I gathered my belongings and headed for the exit.

I hovered at the door and turned to him.

‘Who were they?'

Lorenzo glanced up at me, surprise in his dark azure eyes.

He gazed at me for a beat before replying. ‘Wet work specialists sent to hush me, the most silent of them all.'

‘But why?' I pushed.

His mouth quirked. ‘Because they fear what I know, and they misunderstand my purpose. I am a man of honour, and we never speak to the living; we only whisper to the dead.'

He let out a long breath, his gaze fixed on me.

‘You gun skills, you said your father taught you?'

I cringed, unwilling to go into my family's dark secrets. ‘He was in the military,' was all I offered, which was the truth.

His eyes narrowed, twisting his lips.

‘I sense there's more to unpack on that, but now's not the time. Remember, no matter what happens, I'm watching over you,' he rasped, his voice filled with an intensity that made me shiver.

Even as I remembered how he'd blasted into the study and dispatched the attacker with cold precision.

His eyes were bleak, his shoulders bowed. I sensed a deep resignation and was hit with a stab of compassion for him.

‘Make sure you also get some sleep, Lorenzo, and peace of mind,' I murmured.

Tearing my eyes from his searching and puzzled gaze, I walked out.

Climbing the stairs, I tried to banish the night's dark images from my head.

One thing was clear: I was now entangled in a dangerous world with no possible escape.

This was not the way I'd seen my day ending.

At the second-floor landing, I gazed around and picked a room at the far end of the corridor.

I closed the door to the guest bedroom, the cold silence enveloping me like a shroud.

The room was as opulent as the rest of the house, with plush bedding, fine linens, and a luxurious bath with every amenity imaginable. I couldn't deny the comfort that enveloped me, but it was tainted by the chilling events I had just witnessed.

I freshened up in the bathroom as best I could, using the toiletries I'd placed on the shelves earlier that day.

I returned to the bedroom to find a clean, folded, white men's t-shirt on the bed.

Lorenzo must have slipped it in when I was in the washroom.

I lifted it to my nose and breathed in his essence, warmed by his consideration.

Slipping off my clothes, I pulled his tee on.

Crawling into bed, I mused even more mystified at the dual nature of the man under whose roof I was now trapped.

On the one hand, he was cold, brutal, and the focus of assassins, yet on the other, he was sensual, tender, and warmhearted.

My eyelids grew heavier, and I drifted off to sleep, lost in the enigma of all that was Lorenzo Calibrese.

LORENZO

Che due palle! The past few hours had been a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

I sat alone in my living room, nursing a whisky and a foreboding of more trouble lurking on the horizon.

The dim light cast long shadows across the furniture and bureau, mirroring my bleak mood.

The hit had been bad enough, with Mauri getting injured, a dead body and a wounded assassin on our hands.

What had blown my mind, however, was Mia.

Caught amid my shit was Mia, with her gorgeous eyes, sweet lips and cold as fuck shooting mastery.

Her sheer bravery had made her an instant queen in my books, her fast thinking and freakish aim saving my ass yet leaving me with questions.

But for now, she was safe in my guest room while I worked out what to do with the Abrazzios.

The fact they'd attacked me in my own home meant they were getting desperate.

Their actions told me they thought they were doomed unless they wiped the Calibreses out, given how much we were across their business.

Still, Mia's and my dearest friend's lives had almost been snuffed, and that alone sealed the fate of the Abrazzios for me.

My life, too, had hung in the balance until Mia dispatched the second assassin with icy precision.

A surge of gratitude came over me, followed by a sharp desire to never let any darkness touch her.

More vexing was my instinctual reaction when I first realised she was in my house—the unbidden joy of seeing her face even at the worst of times.

Though I'd shut it down with a mask of ice after reminding myself of her kiss with the stranger, I had to admit, she freakin' drove me wild.

I had tagged the earnestness in her face when she'd claimed the man she'd kissed was not her boyfriend. I wanted to believe her, having never desired a woman as much as I did her.

She was the picture of sultry seduction, classy with a hint of savagery.

Her violet eyes were limpid with pure beauty, cupid lips were perfect for teasing me.

Part of me longed to rip off her clothes, to stamp her skin with my mouth, my kisses, my sensuality.

To make her beg for mercy.

To have her cry out my name as I gave her ecstasy and bliss she'd never had with another man.

Yet, fearing few, she was the one I was terrified of the most.

For she had the power to consume me.

To drive me to the edge.

I had to own her. Fuck her toyboy, I'd become her King.

She had no clue how the devil danced in my soul as I contemplated how I'd make her mine.

The fucked up situation we found ourselves in had meant compromising her freedom, backing her into a corner for her benefit, and I prayed she'd forgive me.

Regardless, I would shelter her, even if it meant becoming a monster, doing what was necessary to survive and rise above the tide of evil, even if it meant sacrificing my life to protect her and those I cared for.

I realised how vulnerable I had become, how she was twisting me up on the inside. If I didn't play my cards right, I would forfeit my soul because of her.

I would also lose her.

I needed a plan, a change of heart and tack.

Being an asshole wouldn't work with Mia.

She was too smart to put up with that kind of bullshit.

I had to take a new approach.