Page 66 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

“They’re dead,” I growl, throwing my hands inthe air, fingers splayed wide. My heart is still hammering, my blood surgingthrough my veins with a mix of adrenaline and fury. Whoever just tried to takea shot at us—at her—signed their death warrant.

Luca straightens; his decision is made. “Wefind out who sent them. This goes higher than a few bottom feeders.”

Antonio nods, his expression dark. “We have tokeep her safe.”

“No one will touch her,” I grind out. “No onewill damage even a fingernail.”

No one takes what belongs to us.

Not now. Not ever again.

29

AEMELIA

THE DEVIL HAS KIND HANDS

My hands are still shaking when Alexis returnsto check on me. I’m sitting on the bed, and he crouches in front of me runninghis hand through my hair, easing out the tangles.

“Aemelia.” He brushes his thumb over my cheek,tender as a lamb.

“Why?” I ask. “Were they coming for me?”

“We’ll find out, and we’ll deal with it. Fornow…”

He kisses me sweetly, searching, and I reachfor him, tangling my fingers in his soft, dark curls, slipping into a place ofsafety within his arms. He covered me with his body and protected me as I hadprotected him. No man has ever sheltered me that way.

His touches are practiced and gentler than Iimagined it could be with him. Gone is his demanding edge, his need to make mebeg. It’s like, by pushing him to the ground, I showed him that I’m worthy ofhis care and his love, and now I have nothing to prove.

“Are you okay?” He cups my throat where mypulse beats a steady rhythm.

“I’m not used to it. The violence, thethreat.”

His jaw flexes. “And you don’t have to getused to it. Everything will be okay.”

He draws me to my feet, wrapping his armsaround me, cradling me like I’m precious. I slide easily into his embrace,starved of affection, still shaking from the sight of the menacing men pointingtheir guns toward us and the sharp echo of the gunshots. Alexis sways us, andbefore I realize what’s happening, he’s dancing with me slowly in a smallcircle, with just the low hum of a murmured song in the background.

His broad hands stroke in long, slow swipesdown my back, calming and reassuring. I press my face into his warm, solidchest and close my eyes so I can try to forget where I am and why and sink intothis feeling of safety and security.

My mama was always filled with words of wisdomwhich she mostly aimed at my brother, who needed sense knocked into himregularly. Her favorite: the devil doesn’t come to you with anger or to inspirefear. He comes to you offering everything you ever wanted and everything youdidn’t know you needed, with kind hands and a soft smile. He lulls you intobelieving he wants what’s best for you until it’s too late.

My throat convulses in a noisy gulp as I tryto draw together my splintered thoughts and feelings. Is Alexis the angel orthe devil? The men outside wanted to kill us and he became my shield. But withhis brothers, he’s taken me from everything I know and love and kept mecaptive.

He looks down at me with tender, wide eyes, asthough he’s seeing me for the first time.

“Did you dance at your prom?” he asks me.

“I didn’t go,” I whisper.

He tips my chin, forcing me to meet the firein his eyes. “Why not?”

“I couldn’t afford the dress. There was noone…” I trail off because he doesn’t care about my childish experiences. He’s agrown man from a world where life and death flip at the click of fingers.

“That’s a shame,” he says. “Every girl shoulddance with a handsome boy at her prom.”

“Not every girl has a life like mine.”

It’s the truth, and I’m not afraid to admitit. Not now. Not after everything that’s happened. I feel tired down to thepolished white of my bones.

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