NICHOLAS'S POV
The hot water of the shower ran red down the drain, washing away the blood of six men who had thought they could corner me in my own home.
Their mistake.
My mistake was letting my mind drift to ice-blue eyes and the way Simone had looked at me in the courtyard—like she actually gave a damn whether I lived or died.
I pressed my palm against the marble wall, letting the scalding water pound against my shoulders.
The bullet graze across my ribs burned like hell, but it was nothing compared to the fire that had ignited in my chest when I had seen her running toward me, worry etched across those sharp features.
'Cazzo.' I was losing my edge.
The Nicholas Stravkos of six months ago would never have taken unnecessary risks to get back to a woman.
He would
