Page 9 of Romeo

“Tell me what happened last night,” I say softly, sitting forward with my elbows on my knees.

Thalia inhales deeply, and her eyelids flutter closed as she exhales. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone to the plant so late at night,” she starts, her voice barely above a whisper. “But Thomas forgot the dinner I packed, and I wanted to find a back entrance so I could give it to him.”

I nod, listening to every word and weighing it in my mind. There’s no doubt she’s telling me the truth. I hardly know this woman, yet I can picture her packing a meal for her brother, who likely doesn’t give a shit, and going the extra mile to ensure he gets it.

Thalia goes on to tell me about Thomas and Martin getting into an argument over missing money, which I make a note to check on later. Her breath hitches as she describes the three men who joined them, all of whom undoubtedly work for the Colombos.

“It all happened so fast, and yet it felt like an eternity,” she murmurs, sniffling slightly before continuing. “They sh-shot Thomas first, and there was… so much blood. Dark red, seeping over the concrete, coming right for me…”

She shudders as she trails off, and I find myself placing a hand on her thigh to comfort her. It’s a strange instinct to have, comforting someone. Then again, it shouldn’t surprise me. This woman is bringing out all sorts of desires I’ve suppressed for so long.

“What happened next?” I ask softly, pulling her out of the dark spiral she was heading toward. I remember the first execution I saw. It’s seared into my blackened soul. I was eleven.

Thalia blinks, then looks down at my hand resting on her leg. She rests her hand over mine and takes a calming breath.

We spend the next ten minutes picking apart the conversation between Martin and the Colombo goons, and somehow, Thalia ends up curled into my side, her head nestled in the crook of my neck while my arm rests around her waist. I’m unsure how it happened, but I can’t bring myself to scoot away from her.

“Thank you for telling me what you saw,” I whisper onto the top of her head.

Thalia doesn’t say anything, so I lean back to get a better look at her. A soft snore rises from where she’s buried against me, and that same sense of pride from earlier threatens to explode from my chest. She’s sound asleep, the full weight of her voluptuous body pressed against me.

I take a moment to drink in her features, my fingers finding her silky auburn hair and tucking it behind her ear to give me a better view. Her porcelain cheeks are tinged with pink, and her pouty lips are parted slightly as she takes deep breaths.

The poor girl is drained, as if it took every last drop of energy to tell me what she saw. I have no doubt that it did. I still have no idea what I’m going to do with her now I have the information I need, but for now, she needs rest.

I stand with Thalia in my arms, unreasonably satisfied when she curls up against my chest. Fuck, it feels good having her right here, her supple curves and soft body pressed against the hard slats of my muscles.

As I carry her through my home and up two flights of stairs, I contemplate tucking her into my bed. However, I don’t want her to assume I want any kind ofpaymentfor her protection. Not only would I never disrespect her like that, but I don’t deal in that kind of business. Neither do my men.

Ultimately, I decide to place her in the room next to mine. I pull the blankets back before gently laying Thalia on the queen-sized canopy bed. I carefully slip her sneakers off, tossing them into the hallway so I can throw them out with the garbage. She’ll have a new wardrobe when she wakes up.

Tucking the comforter around her, I have a difficult time not smelling her hair or kissing the side of her neck where I see her pulse thrumming. It takes a considerable effort to tear myself away from Thalia, but I manage to walk the fifteen steps into the hallway before closing the door.

I rest my forehead against the cool, polished wood, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

CHAPTERFIVE

THALIA

Iroll over in bed, my eyes still heavy with sleep, as I gather the blankets and secure them around me. The soft silk sheets are cool and comforting against my skin, which is the first sign I’m in an unfamiliar place.

Freezing, I try to remember where I am and how I got here as I slowly blink my eyes open. I’m surrounded by dark gray silk sheets, a warm, heavy comforter, and a mountain of plush pillows scattered about.

I cautiously sit up, taking a moment to stretch my sore, aching muscles. The bed is gorgeous, with four posts and a sheer white canopy draped between them. I feel like a princess as I settle back into the luxurious nest I somehow woke up in.

The small smile tugging at my lips drops as the memory of the last few days seeps into my fantasy.

Gruesome images flash through my brain, skyrocketing my heart rate. Thomas was shot. I watched him bleed out. I have nothing and no one left except the mysterious Romeo, who promised me his protection.

I try taking a calming breath, only to choke on the panic crawling up my throat.

Powerful men are looking for me and want me dead because of what I saw. I’m pretty sure I can trust Romeo, for now, at least. I already told him what he wants to know, though. Maybe I should have strung him along and given him a reason to keep me under his roof.

I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly when the massive man knocked on my door earlier this morning. In fact, I don’t remember coming into this room at all. My last memory is telling Romeo about the conversation I heard between my brother, Martin, and the three men who showed up.

My face flushes when I think about the way his hand stretched out over my thigh, grounding me yet making me jumpy and tingly at the same time. I faintly remember leaning against Romeo when I finally confessed everything that had been tangling up my mind. As the last word slipped from my lips, the final drop of energy evaporated, and I needed his strength to hold me up.

He must have carried me into this room.

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