I can’t believe it’s this easy, though. It makes me feel sick. I don’t actually want to get Vince killed. I don’t want him to feel like I’ve betrayed him again—I haven’t, he doesn’t have my loyalty anymore—but he might use it as an excuse to go darker. There’s no way this ends well, but he sealed all our fates when he drugged and abducted me.
I can’t believe it, but I make it. I’m so fucking exhilarated as I approach the massive front door of yet another gigantic mansion. Now I’m in a hurry, checking over my shoulder, paranoid I’ll get caught. Now I’m remembering Vince’s threat to me back at the hotel—what if he comes home? Or he was just in a room I missed somehow, and he notices me missing? What’s he going to do? Will he harm his own neighbor? What am I supposed to do if he comes over to retrieve me before help can arrive?
My plan now is to call Mateo first, tell him where I am in case Vince does come flying over here, and then call a cab to get me the fuck out of here. I don’t have any money to pay him with, but once I get to a public place, surely I can find someone to let me use their phone to get in touch with Mateo; he’ll take care of the financials.
My stomach is a mess of anxiety, but this is a good plan. I can do this. The hardest part is over—I’m out of Vince’s clutches. Even if he comes home now, assuming he doesn’t have security cameras outside, he won’t know I came to this house.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I murmur quietly to myself, tapping my foot on the stone platform.
A maid opens the door, looking confused. “Yes?”
“Oh, thank god. I’m staying right over there,” I say, indicating Ben’s house. “Someone broke into the house and I didn’t have a chance to grab my cell. Could I please come in and use your phone real fast? I just need to call for help.”
The maid glances behind her, then moves aside. A man steps into view, a well-dressed, attractive man in his thirties with thick golden hair and golden brows slanted over turbulent brown eyes.
Suddenly my stomach feels fluttery, like it does when I’m in danger. His gaze moves very briefly up and down my body, then he cocks his head to the side. “What can we do for you, young lady?”
The maid opens her mouth to explain, but he stops her without a word, without looking at her, by raising his hand.
The maid darts a glance at me, then turns and leaves, as if dismissed.
“Um…” I swallow, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. My stomach is suddenly hollow. I’m sorely tempted to turn around and run back over to Vince’s house, and that’s absurd. “I just need to use a phone.”
“You don’t have a phone?” he questions, watching me.
“I have one, of course. I left it at my house, and someone broke in, I think. I need to call the police and have someone—”
“That house?” he asks, indicating Ben’s house and walking over to a large wooden armoire on the side of the foyer where the maid stood before she abandoned me here with him.
“Yes,” I say, frowning as I watch him open it up.
My heart drops clear out of my body when he opens it to reveal it’s stocked full of guns. So. Many. Guns. He debates for a moment, then grabs a smaller one and closes up the armoire. My eyes are about as wide as they can be as he approaches me. I get the distinct impression this amuses him. He settles an arm firmly around my shoulder, walking me right back out of his house.
“Just so happens I work for Uncle Ben. Also happens I can handle a burglar by myself, no police required,” he adds, with a wink to let me know that he knows I’m full of shit.
“You’re a Morelli?” I ask, with growing dread.
“Rafe. And you are?”
“Mia,” I offer, suddenly a million pounds heavier.
“Aw, you don’t seem so scared now. You must feel safe with me.”
He’s mocking me, but I still murmur back, “Not even a little bit.” Then, since I’ve already taken this chance, I ask, “You must know Mateo Morelli then, right?”
His face betrays no indication of what that name means to him, but he nods once. “I do.”
“Do you like him?” I ask, rather than sharing my story.
He laughs. “No.”
My hopes dwindle. “Oh.”
Rafe wraps an arm around my shoulders again, giving me a little pat on the arm. “You must be Vince’s girl.”
“I am not Vince’s girl,” I object. “I’m Mateo’s fiancée, and he’s going to be super pissed when he finds me.”
“His fiancée,” he remarks, raising his eyebrows and looking me over again, this time with more significance. “That’s interesting.”