Page 89 of Stiletto's Savior

He takes my hand and we head into the kitchen.

Miles goes right up to the freezer and pulls out a box wrapped in candy cane wrapping paper.

“If it’s in the freezer then it must be something good,” I joke.

He licks his lips and smirks, handing the box over to me. “Go ahead, open it.”

I tear back the wrapping paper and use my nail to cut through the tape holding the box together.

The moment I open it, I’m completely taken back.

I glance up into his eyes and he gives me a curt nod. “That used to belong to The Commander, before I took his life.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,” I swallow hard, emotions bubbling up in my chest.

The truth is, I’m trying to hold back tears.

He places his hand on the side of my cheek and stares at me for a few moments. “You don’t have to say anything.”

That’s a lie. I have to say something.

I grab onto his hand and give it a hard squeeze. “Thank you so fucking much. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Yes, I do. It’s why I did it. It’s why I killed those fuckers back in New York, too. I’m never gonna let anyone get away with hurting you. You hear me?”

I put the box on the counter and stare deeply into his eyes.

I pull Miles out of the kitchen, toward the back hallway, sincerity spilling from my lips. “Come with me.”

The music thumps like a heartbeat, but all I hear is him.

His brow arches, amusement dancing in his brown eyes. “Where are we going?”

I glance back at him, feeling daring. “Just trust me.”

The warmth of whiskey still tingles through me, fueling my boldness.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he chuckles, following my lead.

We slip into an empty room, the door clicking shut behind us.

It’s dimly lit, a soft glow casting shadows across the walls.

I turn, heart racing, and suddenly, the air between us thickens.

“Song,” His voice is low, gravelly—like a warning, yet it sends shivers down my spine.

I step closer, feeling the heat radiate off him. “Yeah?”

Tension crackles in the air, electric.

He inches forward, his breath mingling with mine. “Is this what you wanted?”

My pulse quickens as I bite my lip, teasing him. “Maybe.”

He smirks, but there’s something deeper in his gaze—a hunger, yearning. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

I lean up, capturing his lips with mine. “Only for you.”

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