1
Keira
The door crashes open, and the dogs all start barking at once.
I wheel around to see an enormous man in a suit sprinting toward me with a gun in his hand.
I recognize that face. My one night stand from six weeks ago. The man I’m still trying to forget, here, storming into the animal rescue center where I work.
He’s coming straight for me, murder flashing in his eyes.
The mob boss.
The gorgeous killer.
The possessive, obsessive, monster.
He ghosted me, and I was glad. It meant I didn’t have to think about how he made me feel.
I thought he was gone from my life forever. Now he’s back and grabbing my arm roughly.
“You’re coming with me,” he says, dragging me along the floor. “Now.”
His coal-black suit and white shirt are expensive and beautiful, in contrast to the animal aggression on his face. Darkness flashes across his eyes as he pulls me across the room.
“Go to hell,” I say, twisting and failing to get my arm free as the cacophony of barking continues in the background. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting you out of here.”
“What are you talking about? Why?”
He kicks open the door. Lights pierce the darkness, and he pulls the door closed again. “Dammit,” he says, letting go of my arm. “They’re already here.”
“Who’s here, Salvatore? What are you talking about?”
He turns to face me. “You need to hide.”
“But why?”
His dark eyes turn to fire, and he grabs my shoulders. “Shut up with the questions and do what I say. If you want to live, find a place to hide and stay there.”
He pulls out a gun and crosses back to the door. Taking a deep breath, he glances my way. “Now,” he hisses. Then the door is open, and he’s gone.
I freeze, trying my best to process what’s happening.
Salvatore Valentino is back. He seems to think that he can just waltz back into my life and act like some white knight, riding in to save me from God knows what.
I never heard a thing after that night. He went to Rome, but it may as well have been Mars. No phone call. Not a single message.
It was like he was embarrassed by what we did at my best friend’s wedding, or he saw me as one more notch on his bedpost. Either way, his silence told me I’m as undesirable a partner to him as I am to anyone.
The sound of gunfire jolts me out of my thoughts. I cross to the door and push the bolts across, backing away with trembling hands as more shots fire outside. I can hear shouting in Italian, the dogs still barking over the top of everything else.
I can’t leave them. What if they get hurt?
I grab everything that’s not bolted down and pile it up in front of the door. The blinds on the windows are down. Should I risk taking a look? I switch off the lights, and darkness smothers the room.
The dogs quieten down, but outside, all is quiet. My ears ring, and all I can hear is my own breathing.