Page 49 of King of Omen

When my eyes softened, he sliced his eyes from mine with a suck of his teeth.

He turned his attention to the injured assailant on the ground.

Mauri had strung them up using curtain ropes, stuffing a torn-off piece of drapery into the stranger’s mouth.

‘He’s out,’ the burly bodyguard declared. ‘I choked him. No ID, no wallet.’

He limped back to the couch and fell into it with a heavy thump.

Lorenzo gestured at his man with the weapon still in his hand. ‘Mauri needs help. Can you bandage a bleed? It’s a flesh wound.’

I stared at him for a beat, tossing my life choices before nodding.

He was back to emitting the full force of his cold, calculating aura, making it clear he’d take nothing but yes for an answer.

‘I think I spotted a first aid kit in a cupboard somewhere,’ I whispered.

‘Fetch it while I conduct a perimeter check, then decide what we will do about our unexpected guests.’

His eyes sliced to the fallen man sprawled in a macabre fashion on the polished marble floor and to his unconscious comrade.

I jerked my chin and made off to the utility closet, my heart rate off the charts.

Hands shaking, I rummaged through the supplies I’d arranged earlier in the day and extracted the first aid kit.

I braced myself against a shelf and closed my eyes for a second. ‘Woman, get your shit together,’ I told myself, sucking in deep breaths.

Returning to the study, I discovered Lorenzo bent over the dead man, rummaging through his pockets.

‘I found it,’ I murmured.

‘Use it,’ he grated, his mouth thin in a slash, and his eyes narrowed and focused.

Shuddering from the adrenaline still ratcheting through me, I got busy tending to Mauri’s laceration while his boss ghosted out of the room.

As I cleaned the wound, the bodyguard gritted his teeth, wincing at the pain without uttering a sound.

Lorenzo reappeared from his check of the house. ‘All clear,’ he announced to no one in particular.

He turned his gaze to us with an unreadable expression, flicking between Mauri and me as I worked on the wounded man.

Once I had bandaged Mauri’s thigh and handed him a painkiller and glass of water, Lorenzo jerked his head at me.

‘Who got you on this gig?’

‘Bianca’s lawyer, Mr Jones.’

He and Mauri exchanged glances.

‘He organised my house purchase, too,’ Lorenzo snarled. ‘I suspect a leak somewhere on his side, as no one was apprised I’d be in the house tonight except for his office.’

I stood to my feet, straightening my top. ‘Hey, I had no idea you owned this house. I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’ll get out of your hair now. I’ll nab my gear and head out if that’s OK.’

I made to turn and walk away but came to an abrupt stop as his arms snaked around my waist and dragged me to him.

I found myself banded to his side as he snarled into my ear. ‘The fuck? It’s not OK. Woman, you are going nowhere.’

He tilted his head as if having a sudden thought. ‘Will anyone miss you? A boyfriend, perhaps?’

---