Page 73 of King of Omen

Chest heaving, he angled his face away from me. His mood was sombre, and his gaze reflected a dark-edged steeliness.

I shuddered, thinking of the hell the Abrazzios had coming their way.

As the sun waned and dusk crept over the sky, we pulled up to the house and eased out of the car.

Mauri strode off, eyes averted from me, and I sighed.

‘Hey Mauri,’ I called after him. ‘I’m sorry.’

The bodyguard paused midstep and raised a questioning brow.

‘For pointing a weapon in your face and forcing you to go against your instincts to protect us,’ I extrapolated.

‘You did what you had to,’ he murmured.

‘Still, you didn’t deserve to be put in that position, and I apologise.’

Mauri nodded, his expression softening. ‘I get it. Just swear you won’t take wild risks like that again?’

‘I promise,’ I said, guilt hitting me for making him feel so conflicted.

Mauri lifted his chin. ‘ Bene, we’re all good,’ he said before loping towards the garage house.

Lorenzo took my hand, leading me to the front door. ‘He’s going to be OK,’ he rasped, fingers threading through mine.

‘Who takes care of Mauri after he takes care of us?’ I asked.

‘He’s a man of mystery, one I’ve given up trying to unravel,’ Lorenzo told me. ‘Besides, he has Lupo. That black cat is possessed and does a great job of scratching anyone’s eyes out who tries to get between him and his beloved owner.’

We laughed as we tracked inside the house, so ready for this day to be over.

It had been tense and brutal, but we had made it through.

Although our situationship was mired in complexity, we had each other, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter 15

MIA

That night, after a long, relaxing bath, I wandered into a kitchen bubbling with the aroma of delicious food.

The scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the room, causing my tummy to growl.

Lorenzo stood by the stove, a wooden spoon in hand, stirring a simmering pot of pasta sauce. His dark eyes smouldered when they met mine as I entered, a small smile playing on his lips before he turned back to the cooking.

Mauri was seated at the dining table, a wine in hand. His brow furrowed in deep thought as if he were still processing everything we had experienced earlier.

Lorenzo poured me a glass, and I leaned against the counter, watching him work. I found comfort in this warm, bustling galley surrounded by the scents of delicious food.

I was intrigued to discover how well Lorenzo cooked.

He was also freakin’ sexy as he cheffed for us.

I pretended to scroll on my phone as I peeked at him working.

He wore a black tee over slim-fit jeans.

A towel was flung over broad shoulders, and his hands moved with practised ease.

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