Cato

She sleeps as my helicopter takes off and flies us over the golden fields of semolina and into the rolling hills of Tuscany. Days of travel have taken their toll on her. A quick rummage through her small bag reveals nothing more than a passport, a few euro and the pack of cigarettes with only one smoke missing.

I take her passport and the cigarettes, then slip them into my pocket as we fly over the hills and farms. The scenery is beautiful. But I keep looking at the girl sleeping with her head in my lap.

I knew Carter had a sister. After all, I knew the story of his family well. The violence that took the lives of his parents. But I didn’t know Apollonia had run. Carter was the only member of the Simonetti family I needed. He was the one with the ability to kill without remorse, to protect me at all costs, and to stay by my side when shit hit the fan.

I run my fingers through her dark hair. So soft. Softer than anything I’ve ever felt. She’s like a cat. A lioness, one who tried to use her claws on me at the funeral. She may have left her family ties behind, but she’s still a Simonetti. Their greatness runs in her veins. Their lust for vengeance punctuated with each blow she landed on me.

“Where have you been, little lioness?” I ask her, though nothing can be heard over the helicopter engine.

“Can we drop her?” Santino asks, his eyes narrowed on the beauty asleep in my lap.

My temper flares—a rarity for me—but I keep it in check. “Do not threaten what is mine.”

He drops his gaze. “Apologies.”

“This girl is mine now.” I speak into the mic that connects to all my men as well as the helicopter pilot. “Her life is in my hands. None of you may touch her. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” they all answer quickly.

I’m a man of discipline, one who has no problem enforcing rules through coercion or violence. But I’ve broken my own code by taking Carter’s sister. I should’ve let her fall, left her on the stone floor of the church. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’d caught her in my arms, clutching her close as I strode out into the bright morning.

I’ve never felt drawn to another soul. Never in my life have I granted mercy for no reason. I always have a plan, a design, something to gain. But not with her. Not with this woman who slumbers like an angel but fights like a demon.

My lips curl into a smile, one that I can’t seem to dispel. Has she bewitched me? Is she a ghost sent by Carter to torment me for his death? There is no need. I already carry a heavy load of regret on my shoulders for his passing.

I look down at her again, at the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lips are partly open as she breathes deeply.

No, she’s not a ghost. She’s a real flesh and blood woman, a lioness I want to hear roar.

* * *

“She’s awake.” Flavia shakes her gray head at me as she walks into my office. She’s the only one who can get away with coming in without knocking. “And she’s yelling the house down over there. Why would you take in a wild animal?” She tsks, her hands sliding into the pockets of her black maid’s dress. “She’s feral.”

“Come now, Flavia.” I stride past her. “You knew you couldn’t be the only woman of the house forever.”

“I knew no such thing.” She doesn’t follow, and after I’ve made it down the stairs and into the residence wing of my home, I hear her vacuum come to life.

For the past two hours I’ve sat at my desk and tried to work. For the past two hours, all I’ve done is attempt to architect this meeting between Appolonia and me. She will be disoriented, surprised, maybe even angry again. I don’t know, but what I do know is that I will take the reins and inform her that … And that’s the part where I can’t seem to find my way forward. What is my plan? I don’t have one. I always have a plan. But not with her.

The only thing I know for certain is that she is not leaving these grounds until I discover the truth about her brother’s death. She may well be in danger just as he was. I owe it to Carter to protect his sister. That’s exactly what I’ll do. And not because the girl has bewitched me. Not at all.

I take a deep breath as I catch a screeching yell of “If you don’t let me out of here, I will tear this place down with my bare hands!”

Why do my lips kick up into a smile? I don’t know. I have to stow it, because this lioness clearly needs a strong hand. I flex my fingers knowing that with me, that’s exactly what she’ll get. Strength, discipline, and above all, a firm grasp of the situation.

I knock briefly, then open her door. When I walk in, I don’t see her--not in her bed with the fluffy pink blanket or at the window that looks out on the finest vineyard in Tuscany.

“Appol—” I duck as a vase flies across the room and shatters into pieces next to my head.

“Let me out of here or so help me!” Her hand appears from behind the bed, and she lobs one of her black heels at me.

I smack it from the air and stride around the bed.

“You think you can kidnap me? I’ll burn this place down!” She’s on all fours, a ferocious look on her face as I reach for her. She bites my arm, her teeth only separated from flesh by the thin dress shirt I’m wearing.

With a yank, I wrench her off the floor. She kicks and scratches, then loosens her bite to scream.