The storm outside mirrored the one brewing inside the safehouse. Lightning cracked the sky, illuminating the room where Lorenzo sat with his gun resting loosely in his hand. His mind wasn’t quiet — not anymore.
Not since her.
Alessia had given him something he didn’t ask for: vulnerability. She had looked at him with those soft, defiant eyes and made him forget every vow he had ever made.
But now he knew who she was.
A Romano.
The daughter of the man who butchered his father like livestock in front of his ten-year-old eyes.
He should have killed her the second he saw that crest. Instead, he touched her, protected her, wanted her.
Weakness.
He stood up as the headlights of Dano’s SUV flashed through the window. A moment later, the door burst open.
Dano didn’t come alone.
A girl —
