Page 33 of Death By Chocolate

House’s British-accented voice cuts in. “Voss, Xeno, voice command detected. Not authorized. Intruder alert sounded.”

Xeno roars as it sinks in that he is the wanted visitor. “You—,” he hisses.

“I am doing my job. Get dressed,” I gesture to his cock, “your escorts are here.”

The door to my apartment opens; Silvio and Corso look from me to Xeno. Okay, not who I’m expecting.

“What—” they are not supposed to be here. I called my team.

Silvio is the first to speak. “Voss, get dressed. Your suite is waiting.”

He stares the two men down, then looks back at me. “You sure you want to get between me and my woman?”

Fury and the promise of retribution blaze behind his eyes. A flood of arousal washes over me the longer we’re locked in this tense posture.

“Look,” Corso sighs. “She doesn’t want you here.”

A cruel smile splits Xeno’s full lips. “Too fucking bad,” he growls.

“I can shoot you,” Corso says casually, which surprises the hell out of me. “or, you can walk out.”

Xeno looks at me, his brown eyes flashing with anger, hurt, and determination. “Doubt my words. Mistrust my motivation.”

Corso draws his gun.

“Voss,” Corso warns. “You’ll be a dead, naked motherfucker. Put on some gotdamn pants and walk out of here.”

One look from Xeno, and I know he won’t back down. My stomach bottoms out.

“You came to take what’s mine. You fuckers, can choke on these nuts.”

“Xeno,” I plead with my eyes. The ring on my finger, his ring, seems to heat, the skin beneath burning. My breathing speeds up. He’s inches away, but it spans an ocean of complicated emotions. I glimpse the resolve shining back at me. A pounding starts in my chest.

“If I die, I die loving you, ma cherie.”

“Don’t,” I yell. But, it’s too late. I watch in horror and Xeno drops to a fighting stance. A snarl tears from his throat as he barrels towards the two men he perceives as a threat to him loving me.

“Oh shit,” Silvio mutters.

Corso aims and pulls the trigger.

Crack. Crack.

Xeno jerks, but doesn’t go down. He charges, leaping at Corso.

Crack.

The third blast echoes in my ears. Xeno’s massive frame crumples with a grace that seems wrong—he's always been pure power in motion, all coiled strength and barely containedviolence. Now he lies still, and the wrongness of it freezes me in place. I bite back a scream.

Corso’s calling my name. And I see is Xeno—my heart—unconscious on the hard floor. I can’t breathe, but my training kicks in even as my heart shatters.

House's familiar presence in my earpiece offers cold comfort. "All systems normal, Dani. Security protocols were followed correctly."

Correctly.

Right.

So why does victory taste of bile? Inside, I'm drowning in what-ifs. What if I'd handled this differently? What if I'd trusted him enough to talk it through?

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