IN LOVE WITH MY MAFIA s*x MATE

HIS ENEMY,HER PROBLEM NOW

CHAPTER SIX

The car stopped, so suddenly my seatbelt locked hard across my chest…headlights washed over another car parked sideways across the road, blocking it completely. It had been placed there on purpose because it had.

Daniel's body changed beside me instantly…the ease from a moment ago was gone, replaced by something coiled and alert.

"Who is that?" His voice was quiet. Controlled. Sharper than I'd heard from him yet.

The guard up front had already leaned forward, scanning the blocked road, the figure beside the other car, the shapes shifting in the shadows on both sides.

"The man from the bar, sir."

My stomach dropped.

I pressed closer to the window. The heavyset man stood exactly where I'd last seen him…except now he wasn't alone. Two…three…four shapes emerged from the dark, surrounding us slowly, unhurried, like men who had all the time in the world.

Daniel didn't look frightened.

He looked irritated. The way someone looks when an appointment runs unnecessarily long.

"Stay here." He didn't look at me. His eyes were already moving across the street…counting and measuring…both front guards stepped out. Smooth. Unhurried. They positioned themselves between the car and the men in the shadows, hands loose and ready.

One leaned down to Daniel's window.

"He says he wants a peaceful discussion. Just words. He's asking you to the back of the car. Just the two of you."

The guard beside me shifted forward like he was about to object.

"Let him come," Daniel said.

"Sir…"

"Let him come."

The guard's jaw tightened but said nothing else.

Daniel reached for the door handle.

"Daniel…" The word left me before I could stop it. Not sharp this time. Just afraid. For him.

He paused…didn't turn around.

"Stay in the car, Sylvia."

Then he was out, straightening his jacket with the unhurried calm of a man walking into a restaurant rather than a street full of armed strangers.

I pressed my whole face against the glass.

The heavyset man approached with that same dark loaded smile, palms open, gesturing further down the street, away from both cars. Just him and him. Daniel followed without hesitation. The two sets of guards split into facing lines, watching, waiting.

The man talked. A lot. Hands moving, open gestures, the universal language of someone trying very hard to look reasonable. Fragments reached me through the glass

...didn't mean...disrespect…

...we can fix this like men…

Daniel stood with his arms crossed. Listening. Still. That particular stillness I was starting to recognize…the one that meant he was already three steps ahead.

The man smiled wider. Stepped closer. Spread his hands like he was offering a handshake.

It was going to be fine.

The man's hand moved…not toward Daniel's hand. Lower. Faster. A blur, I almost didn't register until the streetlight caught it.

Silver.

A blade, arcing up, fast, aimed straight for Daniel's throat.

My palm slammed against the window, so hard pain shot up my wrist.

"DANIEL…"

The scream tore out of me before I even knew I was making a sound.

Daniel's hand shot up and caught the man's wrist in midair…the blade stopping a breath from his neck. For one impossible second, they were frozen, straining, the blade trembling between them.

Then Daniel twisted.

Sharp. Brutal. Economical.

The knife clattered to the asphalt. The man went down with it, clutching an arm bending in a direction arms were never meant to bend.

Then, everything moved at once.

Both lines of guards collided. Daniel's men reached him first, forming a wall around him, hustling him back toward the car.

My door wrenched open. Daniel dropped into the seat, breathing hard. His shirt had a dark stain spreading along his side, soaking through fast.

"Drive," a guard barked, and the car lurched forward.

I stared at the blood and at him.

"You're bleeding…" My voice came out high. Wrong. "Daniel, you're bleeding…"

"I'm fine."

Even now. Even with blood soaking his shirt, his voice was even and steady. Like this happened to him every Tuesday.

I didn't scream again, but my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

The penthouse was silent when we arrived. The driver said something low to Daniel and left without coming inside. Then it was just the two of us, and Daniel stood there a moment too long…recalibrating.

"Your room is the second on the left," he said. Even. Steady.

"Get some rest."

He turned and walked toward his own room.

I went to mine. Sat in the dark, the flash of silver replaying behind my eyes until I couldn't sit still anymore.

I got up.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, a first aid kit open beside him, trying…and failing…to wrap a bandage around his ribs with one arm bent at an angle that clearly hurt.

He looked up…said nothing.

I crossed the room before I'd decided to.

"Let me," I said.

"I don't need…"

"Daniel." My voice surprised even me…quiet, steady, leaving no room. "Let me."

He looked at me for a long moment. Then, he held out the bandage.

I knelt in front of him. My hands found the wound…deeper than I'd expected, the edges raw…and he didn't flinch, didn't make a sound. Just watched my face while I worked.

The silence stretched. Thick. Charged.

I finished the bandage. My hands didn't move away.

He reached up. Tilted my chin until I was looking at him.

"Sylvia." His voice had gone quiet in a way I had never heard.

"Tonight…"

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't say something you don't mean."

"I mean it.

His thumb traced slowly along my jaw. His face moved closer…slow, deliberate, exactly the way it had that first night at the bar…and I knew, with absolute certainty, that if I didn't move in the next three seconds… then a phone rang