Page 115 of Auctioned Innocence
“Where to?” she shouts over the engine noise.
“Queens,” I call back. “We regroup, we plan, and then we take down the entire goddamn operation.”
She leans into the next turn, and I feel the bike respond like an extension of her body. Behind us, the city glitters with ten million lights, beautiful and dangerous and full of enemies who think they’ve won.
They’re about to learn how wrong they are.
22
SOFIA
The Queens warehouse is exactly what Mario promised—completely off the books, stocked with supplies, and defensible. It took us an hour to find the hidden safe behind the false wall panel, but Mario’s note with our emergency supplies had been cryptic enough.
“Everything you need is where my father kept his secrets.”
I stare at the note blankly, but Dante’s face has gone still. Something dark flickers in his eyes—recognition mixed with something that looks almost like pain. Without a word, he starts methodically checking the walls, running his hands along the concrete blocks with sudden urgency.
“What are you—” I start to ask.
“Give me a minute.” His tone is sharp enough to cut glass. When I open my mouth to ask about the DeLuca patriarch, the look he shoots me makes it clear that subject is off-limits.
It takes him about ten minutes to find the false panel. The relief on his face when we discover the files inside is palpable—detailed dossiers on Viktor and Dominic’s network, financial records Mario hadn’t had time to show us, communication intercepts, and most importantly, a comprehensive timelineof every security breach going back eight months. Proof of everything Mario had told us, plus evidence we could actually use.
I’m still going through the security breach analysis, cross-referencing dates with family operations, when Dante comes in from checking the perimeter.
“My contact wants to meet,” he says, tension evident in his shoulders. “Says he has information about who’s been accessing the Renaldi security systems.”
My eyes snap up. “When?”
“Tonight.” He starts gathering weapons, checking ammunition. “I’ll handle it.”
“Like hell.” I set down the files. “I’m coming with you.”
“Sofia—”
“Don’t ‘Sofia’ me.” I stand, temper flaring. “Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t mean you get to sideline me. I’m not some fragile thing to be protected anymore.”
“This isn’t about protection.” But how hard he’s clenching his jaw says otherwise. “These contacts…they’re dangerous. Unpredictable.”
“So am I.” I step closer, invading his space. “Or have you forgotten how I handled myself at the auction house? At the warehouse against Madame Rouge’s men?”
His eyes darken at the memory. “That’s different.”
“Why? Because you weren’t in love with me then?”
The words hang between us. We haven’t said it yet—not properly. His face does something complicated before settling into that enforcer mask I hate.
“This isn’t about us.”
“Bullshit.” My fingers dig into my palms. “You think I don’t see you pulling away? Trying to create distance now that we’ve crossed that line?”
“I’m trying to keep you alive!” Dante’s eyes flash dangerously.
“No, you’re trying to protect yourself!” The truth of it hits as I say it. “You’re scared that loving me makes you vulnerable. Makes you weak.”
He moves fast, backing me against the wall. “You think I’m not feeling something?”
His kiss is brutal, demanding. I meet it with equal force, biting his lower lip. His growl vibrates through me as his hands slide under my shirt before moving into my hair.
