Page 73 of The Bonventi Rise
"I'll buy you a hundred harps," Marco says fiercely. "I'll buy you anything you want. But first, let's get you out of these clothes and cleaned up."
I give him a look.
"Not like that." He stands and reaches out for me to take his hand, nodding toward the bedroom. "Come on."
Marco's hands are gentle as he guides me through the bedroom to the en suite bathroom.
He reaches into the glass shower enclosure and turns on the water. Steam begins to fill the spacious bathroom as he tests the temperature with his hand.
"Let me help you," he says, unbuttoning his shirt that I'm wearing.
Marco's hands are soft as he helps me undress. He peels off the bloodstained shirt and then helps me step out of my torn leggings.
There's none of the heat or passion that usually comes with him undressing me. Instead, there's a tenderness I've never seen from him before. Instead of feeling exposed or vulnerable, I feel at ease in his presence.
When I'm completely naked, he helps me into the shower. The hot water hits my skin, and I watch as small streams of red run down my body, carrying away my blood, the Russian's blood. My stomach tightens at the sight.
I watch as the crimson water swirls down the drain—deep red at first, then lighter, then clear.
"I'll be right back," Marco says. "I'm going to go get something."
Panic seizes my chest. "Wait!" I grab his arm, water splashing onto his sleeve. "Is it— is it safe here?"
The thought of being alone, even for a moment, makes my heart race. What if there are more of them?
Marco's hand covers mine where it grips his arm. "This hotel is under Bonventi protection. No one gets in or out of this suite without my say-so. You're safe here, Firefly. I promise."
I nod slowly, forcing myself to release his arm. "Okay."
"I'll be right back," he repeats, and then he's gone, leaving me alone with the steam and the sound of running water.
The water continues to pour over me, but I can't seem to get warm. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering despite the steam. The events of the night play on repeat in my mind. The gunshots. The blood. The look in Marco's eyes as he returned from my apartment.
I know who Marco is. I know his family has connections, power that exists in the shadows. But knowing and seeing are two very different things. Tonight, I saw the man behind the charming politician. The man capable of killing without even thinking twice.
And despite all that, I also learned that even in the face of danger, he'd come for me. He'd protect me, even if it meant operating in the most brutal way possible.
I close my eyes, letting the water run over my face, and wonder what it says about me that I can witness a man's execution and still feel safer with his killer than without him.
It's a question I'm not ready to answer. I grab the soap and clean myself, scrubbing harder in places where the dried bloodis persistent. I go to wash my face and wince in pain, forgetting about the pieces of wood from the harp that cut my cheeks.
I work gentle circles around my face, rinsing carefully, then turn off the water.
I step out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy white towel around my body. When I turn to walk into the bedroom, Marco is there, waiting for me. His eyes scan over me, not with lust, but with concern. It's a look I'm not used to seeing from him.
"Come here, beautiful," he says softly, guiding me to a chair. "Sit down."
37
ALINA
Itake his hand and follow his lead, sinking into the plush seat he moved from the living room into the bedroom. As I sit, my limbs feel heavy, like they're made of lead. The adrenaline crash is hitting me hard after the hot shower.
Marco sets a bag on the nearby table and starts unpacking it. "I got you some clothes from the hotel shop," he says, his voice low. "And a first aid kit."
Marco kneels in front of me, opening the first aid kit. "Let me take care of those cuts," he says, his eyes meeting mine. And despite all that's happened, the gentleness in his voice makes my chest ache in a way I can't quite explain.
I watch as he soaks a few cotton balls in antiseptic and then brings one to my face. I close my eyes, and he gently dabs the cuts. It stings, and I flinch involuntarily.
