Page 13 of Assistant to the Mafia

There was a toppled-over armchair barely beyond the swing of the door. Her alarm panel looked to have been shot and ripped from the wall. Books and assorted personal items like pictures and collectible trinkets were littered across the floor, shattered and stomped on. Something solid had been thrown into the television. And of course, there were more bodies. Three more men in dark sweats dotted the ground of the main space between the living and kitchen areas. Blood oozed, splattered, and dribbled damn near everywhere.

Grace herself was perched on the arm of her sofa, as far as she could get from the carnage. She had her arms wrapped around herself and visible splashes of blood stained her baby blue pajamas. Her fucking pajamas.

Her hair slid over her shoulder as she slowly turned her head toward him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I … I think I … need a personal day…”

Romeo cursed, shoved his gun into his waistband, and stomped forward. He may have stepped on some dead fuck’s hand. He didn’t care. “No more work talk, angel.” He ripped off the coat he’d barely stopped to grab and draped it around her, then lifted her into his arms. “Let’s get you out of here, all right? Then we can talk, or you can cry, or scream, whatever you need. But this place isn’t safe.”

She gasped for breath and leaned into him, her body shaking. “I-I don’t have … I need to…”

“You don’t need to do or get anything right now.” Romeo turned. He’d glimpsed her phone still clutched in her hand, and he certainly wouldn’t deny her that. He looked to Aurelio. “Find her charger, and grab that satchel. Those things come to me. If anyone goes through her wardrobe, I’ll slit his fucking throat.”

Aurelio nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”

Romeo gave Grace’s shoulder a squeeze. “Close your eyes, Grace. You don’t need to see any of this.” When she nodded against him, her eyes already squeezed shut, he started forward. He didn’t need to instruct the men to keep the apartment secure for the remainder of the night and there was no reason for them to linger.

The captured man was still unconscious in the hall, and he had no clue how fortunate he was that Romeo’s hands were full. If he’d known the condition of Grace and her apartment first, he’d probably have shot the fucker anyway.

No one spoke in the elevator. The men around him pretended they couldn’t hear Grace’s sniffles and gasping breaths, because his men weren’t idiots.

A nondescript van was pulling to the curb behind Romeo’s SUV as they stepped from the building. Its lights cut out immediately and Romeo was confident he knew who it was. The cleanup crew had scrambled.

Romeo waited only for Mo to pull open the back passenger door, then ducked in to set Grace on the seat. If he could have climbed inside with her in his arms, he would have. He pulled the coat fully around her, gave her knee a squeeze, and stepped back. Then he rounded to the other side without waiting, nodding as he moved to the men still unpacking from the van. It wasn’t often he was still on the scene when the cleaners arrived, but they were good at what they did. That meant knowing not to interrupt him with pointless questions.

Romeo angled into the SUV almost in synch with Mo, snapping his door shut and turning toward Grace. They were reversed from their previous seats, and for all the time he’d spent staring at this spot earlier like she owned it, now that didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was how fragile and scared she looked.

He slid closer to her and reached out, brushing some hair from her face. “Grace. Hey. Look at me, angel. You’re safe. You’re gonna be okay.”

She dragged her eyes up to his, her breathing still unsteady. She was still shaking. She still had tears dripping from her lashes. “I don’t— I don’t understand.”

He blew out a breath and lifted her back into his lap as the SUV started moving. Mo was literally the last person who would give him shit, and tonight, he didn’t fucking care. “I don’t know yet why anyone went after you,” he murmured into her hair as he tugged her up against his chest. “But I’ll get answers. I promise.”

She shifted over him, her fingers slipping past his coat and twisting in his shirt. “Did … you send the men … who ki— saved me?”

Romeo tightened one arm around her, his other hand rubbing along her outer arm in an attempt to soothe her. Dante was going to go through the roof when he woke up, but the damage was done. The alternative would still have cost him a price he hadn’t wanted to pay. “Yes. I sent those men.” He inhaled a breath of her. “Did anyone hurt you?”

“No.” Her breath shuddered out of her. “I don’t think so…” She burrowed closer to him, her hair tickling his nose. “Thank you. Thank you, Romeo.”

five

Distraction

He brought her home. The family had three safehouses in the Newark area, yet Romeo had brought her home with him. Even as he helped her inside, Mo following with the things Aurelio had rushed out to the second car before it had pulled away, Romeo knew this was only going to make the already delicate situation worse in the light of day.

A problem for later.

Enrico, Lucia’s bodyguard, met him at the foot of the stairs. His brows arched high up his forehead for a single second before he ripped his gaze away from Grace completely. “Sir?”

“Keep the property locked down,” Romeo said quietly. “Grace here is my guest. If you need to know anything else, you’ll be informed.” He liked Enrico—he trusted the man to protect his daughter when he couldn’t do it himself, after all—but this wasn’t the time to get into even what little he did know.

Enrico nodded and moved aside. “Everything’s been quiet here, sir.”

“Good.” Romeo held out his free hand toward Mo and Mo passed along the work bag and purse, presumably one of them containing a phone charger. Then he dipped his head and lowered his voice to speak to Grace, who was standing up against his side as if she were petrified to move away. He suspected she wasn’t really paying a whole lot of attention to anything outside her head right then, and he wasn’t too thrilled about the implications of that. “Come on, angel. Let’s get you upstairs. Think you can walk a little more?”

He felt her draw a breath and, slowly, she nodded. Still, he walked beside her for each step, grateful to his younger self’s indulgence and flashiness for buying a property with an extra-wide main staircase. They climbed at a more sedate pace than he’d probably ever moved before, but eventually they reached the top, and Romeo guided her in the proper direction.

He wanted to bring her to his room, to peel away her blood-stained pajamas and hold her naked body tight to his until she finally stopped shaking. But the timing was wrong for that. He knew it was. The last thing she needed was to feel trapped or pressured, to feel like she’d escaped one nightmare just to wind up in another. So he took her to the guest room closest to his own, set her things down, and pulled her against him again.

“I know this place is unfamiliar,” he said gently, “and I know some scary ass shit happened tonight, but I promise you, you’re safe here, okay?”

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