Page 24 of Not Mine to Keep

A dark brow shot up—you know, the sexy way Henry Cavill does it in movies? Yeah, like that. But somehow, it was even more just ... well,more, in all caps.

“I know there’s something wrong with me.” One defined shoulder lifted with the perfect amount of casual effort. “But as for you? My guess is still shock.”

I wish.“I, um, should be going now.”

“Probably a good idea, Callie.” The huskiness as he said my name managed to throttle my sense of awareness yet again.

I was standing in a bathroom with a shirtless and handsome guy, and no man had ever been in his spot before. I’d moved into the garden home only a month before finding out the dreaded news about Armani—two weeks after breaking up with my boyfriend.

“I’ll be quick.” That was his nudge for me to leave since I continued to stare at his bronzed chest, feeling like I could write a sonnet or two about his muscles.

“Okay,” I mouthed,finallyleaving. Once in the bedroom, I grabbed clean clothes from my dresser—cutoff jean shorts with my worn-out, favorite red tee that said NASHon it.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror atop the dresser and freed my hair from the bun. Using my fingers, I combed out the tangled locks since my brush was lucky to be sharing the same space with the naked stranger instead of me.

I bowed my head, hating the fact I still wasn’t scared. Or nauseous. Or any of the things I should have been after the deadly encounter. Just oddly defiant, acting a little immature, and kind of turned on.

Thoughts of marriage to one of my father’s men and being forced to produce a male heir had me sick last night. But death? Nope.Not a DiMaggio. Not a ...My thoughts died at the sudden blare of my alarm.

My first instinct would have been to go to my lockbox, but with Alessandro there, I’d take my chances with him over a sidearm.

The bathroom door flung open before I had a chance to alert him. Gun in hand, towel around his waist, and eyes sharp on the door, he ordered, “Get in the bathroom and shut the door.”

That was one directive I wouldn’t argue with. Except, by the time I’d locked myself inside, the alarm went off as if someone knew the code. Only my shadow-guards had the passcode since Armani had forced me to provide it to them.

Not even a few seconds later, there was a loud thud inside the bedroom before Alessandro barked out, “Who hired you?”

A distinct back-and-forth began in Italian between the two men.

“Armani will kill me if he finds out about this,” myformerguard bellowed in English that time.Pretty sure that’s Dickhead Number Two.

“What do you think I’ll do to you if you don’t talk?” Alessandro’s threat sliced through the air. It was a low sound that curled around my limbs, giving me goose bumps. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a head start to run if you give me a name.” He tacked on the offer, his tone menacing. “Who. Hired. You?”

“I don’t know. That’s the truth. You can torture me all you want. It won’t do you any good. Whoeverforcedmy hand in helping him has to be someone from the inside to know about Armani’s daughter. Not many do.”

Unable to stop myself, I opened the door, and Alessandro had the guard on the floor face down. The man’s cheek was to the carpet, and with one knee on the floor alongside him, Alessandro’s towel somehow remained snug in place.

“And so you came here to finish the job since those three hit men failed?” I joined in, doing my best to remain calm.

He tried to squirm, to shift on the floor to get a better look at me. “I didn’t know you were with someone in the park. You’re always alone.” The balls on that man to talk about having me killed had me going for him, losing whatever chill I had in me.

Alessandro was on his feet in a second, winding an arm around my back to stop me from going after the traitor.

“I should’ve done the job myself. Snuck in at night and suffocated you with your pillow,” he tossed out while going into a push-up position to rise, but Alessandro let me go to handle him.

“Suffocate her?” Alessandro smashed my guard’s nose and mouth to the carpet with enough force that’d soon have him unable to breathe. “Oh, the things I want to do you.” He switched to Italian as if not wanting me to hear whatever dark words he shared.

The guy was gasping for air, so I went over to Alessandro and tugged at his arm. “You’ll kill him before he can answer you.”

Alessandro turned his attention on me, then blinked as if freeing himself from some kind of drug-induced stupor, and he let go of the back of the guy’s neck and stood. Without losing hold of his weapon, he secured his towel, hissing something again in Italian to the guard, but then let go of his words when a familiar voice began yelling from outside.

“It’s my neighbor,” I told him, unsure what to do.

Alessandro tipped his head toward the window. “Handle him from here.”

I nodded and sidestepped the two men, still in disbelief at everything that’d happened that morning. Once I had the blinds and window up, and with the screen missing, I stuck my head out. “All good! False alarm.” I waited for my neighbor to step off my porch to put eyes on me. “Sorry for the disturbance.”

The old man craned his neck and shielded his eyes with his free hand. And yup, he had the shotgun in the other, in broad daylight. “You interrupted my morning shows,” he grumbled, then waved me off in frustration.

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