Riley’s gaze dropped away from Armani the moment he stepped closer. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The photograph in her hand suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds — her parents’ faces viciously crossed out in red, her own small, smiling face left untouched like some twisted trophy. Questions burned on her tongue, but she swallowed them down. Something bigger was unfolding here. Something dangerous. If Armani was the one who had killed her parents… admitting she recognized the photo could end her tonight.
Armani closed the distance in two strides. His hand shot out, spinning her around by the shoulder with surprising gentleness that still carried an edge of steel. He plucked the photograph from her fingers without asking.
“Who told you that you could touch my stuff?” he
