Page 50 of King of Omen

I shook my head in vigorous denial. ‘No, I don’t have one.’

His eyes narrowed and darkened as if weighing the truth of my words.

He took his sweet time assessing me before releasing an exasperated breath. ‘Bene. First, you’re helping me clean up after moving both bodies. Mauri, who can we trust in Sydney?’

The wounded man grimaced. ‘I’ve got a few contacts, ex-military and live-on-the-edge types who don’t ask questions and who’d be happy to help. It’ll be a favour they might want returned down the line. They can clear the bodies, cremate them, or put them back on ship to Italy because I’ll wager the assassins have no paperwork and slipped into the country illegally.’

‘I trade in favours,’ Lorenzo snarled. ‘So call your mates.’

Mauri rummaged for a phone, his pain appearing like it’d subsided.

In the interim, with Lorenzo’s steel-like arm around me, helpless and immobilised, I panicked, the words ‘not going anywhere’ swirling in my mind.

I opened my mouth to clarify. ‘What did you mean when you said I’m not going anywhere?’

Lorenzo glanced down at me, eyebrow raised. ‘You’re here to stay. Do you think you can stroll away after walking into a house with a hit on it? What if they’ve eyes on us on the street? If they’ve sent two, they’ll send a third and a fourth. They’ll come after you, bella, and black as my heart is, I can’t let that happen.’

He grated the words, his voice dipping to a dangerous timbre, his mouth curled in a sneer when he snarled the endearment.

I trembled, unsure whether his ire was directed at the situation or me.

The latter was more likely, given the disdain in his eyes when he raked them over me.

When we’d parted at the wake, I’d seen a softness in him far removed from the distaste now flashing in his eyes. The vibe he was giving out now was reserved for a crime of the heart, a betrayal that cut deep.

The problem was I had yet to learn what I had done except slip back into his house for my provisions, which, in most books, was a misdemeanour.

Still, Lorenzo’s words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. A chill ran down my spine as the reality of the situation sank in.

As Mauri called his contacts, a sense of dread crept over me.

I was trapped, all because of a misplaced set of cleaning supplies.

Once Mauri finished speaking on the phone, he turned to Lorenzo. ‘They’re on their way,’ he announced, his voice strained with pain.

Lorenzo nodded, his expression unreadable as he twisted to me. ‘You, listen closely,’ he rasped, his tone brooking no argument. ‘I’ll move the body to the garage. After I do, please clean up. We need to rid the study of this mess before the cavalry shows up. I don’t think their service includes a cleaner.’

I glanced down at his arm, still around me. ‘If you want me to help, you must let me go.’

He blinked, realising I was still in his clasp.

He sucked his teeth and released me, our eyes locked in a heated battle of wills.

Chapter 11

MIA

My 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.

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