Quickly, I step out, reach for a towel, and follow the sound, careful not to be heard as I do.
“You did it again. You pushed the fucking boundaries.” That voice? It’s familiar. Is it his boss? “End it, or I will.”
“No.”
My back straightens as Lucas speaks. He sounds casual, but there’s a definite undertone of something I can’t quite make out.
“I won’t kill you, Lucas. I need you. But remember, everyone is replaceable. I know what has to go to get you in line, and she will be gone.”
“If you touch her…” Lucas warns.
“What?” Keir asks with a laugh. “You’ll what, Lucas? You will do nothing and think yourself lucky I have given you as many chances as I have. I wouldn’t give anyone else the fucking same privileges I have given you.” I hear footsteps before the door slams shut.
I run to the bed and quickly change into my clothes before Lucas enters the room. “I’m going home.”
“Stay,” he says, striding over to me, the towel on his waist falling away, but he doesn’t care, he’s more interested in my demeanor right now.
My eyes track the towel as it pools on the floor, and I can’t help but stare because I know what that body can do. Even if I don’t ever remember the us from before, I know that Lucas Rossi is bad for me. Not just bad for my head but bad for my heart.
He has the power to shatter it into a million pieces.
They say I killed his father.
And yet, here he is, still with me.
What type of person does that? Someone who’s in love, that’s who.
I don’t know if I love Lucas—I can’t remember him—but from what I have gathered these last two weeks, I know I have strong feelings, so I would hate to imagine how I felt before this.
He would have had all of me, just not the sensible part.
The part that chose to leave him.
“I want to go home,” I tell him again while packing everything into a bag. “Who was at the door?” I don’t expect him to tell me, so when he does, my body goes rigid.
“Keir.”
My eyes find Lucas, and I know he’s telling me the truth.
Has he always?
“Anything important?” I ask.
“Just him pissing where he doesn’t belong.” I bite the inside of my cheek and nod my head once. I guess that’s as much as I will get from him, and I guess in some ways, it’s enough.
Should I be worried for my life? These men are mafia. They kill. They maim. They are not good men. Their lives are full of turmoil, destruction, and pandemonium.
Speaking of…
I turn to face him.
“You’ll tell me the truth if I ask you something?” He nods. There’s no hesitation. “Why do you have photos of women in your drawer… including me?”
His lip quirks.
“What?” I ask.
“You’ve asked me that before.” He sits on the bed. “I don’t know if you’re ready for this conversation after I have just fucked you.”