Domenico’s arm swung out as he stepped forward, putting himself between me and the men storming in. The arm pinned me to his back and a hissed “f**k” slipped between his lips.
I couldn’t see around him, but I knew it wasn’t good.
Thankfully my coat was long enough to cover my ass as my jeans were across the room, and also still able to close.
“Domenico,” a smooth voice said. The tone was stern, reprimanding.
“Father,” Domenico replied.
I drew in a breath and pulled back, but he kept me tightly to him. I was able to peer around his arm to see the near-dozen men with their guns pointed straight at us.
In the center was a man in a crisp charcoal three-piece suit, his expression pulled tight and framed by short salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were the same silver as Domenico’s, and his ga
