Page 70 of Salvatore

All my blood drains to my feet.

I guess my timing was off. I don’t have another day after all.

“I’m disappointed.” A familiar voice cuts through the music, quiet yet cocky. “I thought my arrival would be worthy of a scream?”

Salvatore?

I rake my gaze over every inch of him, mask to loafers, cuffs to crisp white collar. “I’m not much of a screamer.”

He pulls off the baseball cap, those dark eyes on mine as he tousles his hair and lowers the bandana with a smirk. “I’d like the opportunity to prove otherwise.”

My heart thunders, hope and excitement colliding in a tsunami of overwhelm. I blink away the burn in my eyes, refusing to cry in front of him, but relief has me by the throat.

“Give me a minute.” I swing back to the bathroom and escape inside, pressing the door shut behind me despite the broken latch.

He’s here.

In my room.

Attempting to help me escape.

I scramble to the vanity and clutch it in a white-knuckled grip.

I didn’t actually think he’d show. I guess I’d imagined he would arrange his own paid law enforcement to do a search. Or that he’d set off a fire alarm. Or somehow figure out a way for me to leave the building of my own accord.Notthat he’d physically enter enemy territory to retrieve me.

I swallow down the acrid taste of trepidation.

If he’s caught, he’s dead. I’m dead. And we’ll have to endure a Gabriel-sponsored torture session before we get to kiss this life goodbye. Surely Salvatore had to have thought about that before embarking on this reckless mission.

The door creaks open and his dark silhouette fills the frame. “Sorry for the interruption. I just wanted to make sure you knew fixing your makeup isn’t a priority right now.”

I roll my eyes at him in the mirror. “Are you sure? I want nothing more than to look pretty for you.”

“Consider your task already achieved.”

A tiny part of me swoons. The irrational, brainless part.

“Come on.” He pushes the door wider. “We need to get you out of here.”

“We?”

“Me, my brothers, and Bishop.”

This keeps getting worse. It’s bad enough that Salvatore is here, who will be shot on sight. But a mass infiltration of the mafia into Gabriel’s space will only result in a bloodbath.

“They’re all here?” My voice mimics the hollowness of my chest. “In the building?”

“Gabriel owns three of the five apartments on this floor. The other two are vacant. My brothers are in the one right next door while Bishop is waiting in a getaway car in the parking garage.”

“Armed?”

He snickers. “Well we didn’t come in here packing fairy floss and candy canes.”

“If they see you…”

“I know.” He approaches, that dark formidable silhouette making its way to me. “That’s why we need to get moving.”

I don’t move at all. Don’t even budge from my position at the vanity as the Armani-wearing asshole prowls toward me, such an unacceptably phenomenal sight for sore eyes.

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