Page 69 of Cat and Mouse

Her eyes snap to mine, confusion laced with disbelief. "What do you mean, 'claim me'? I'm not some possession, Leo."

I shake my head, rubbing my thumb over her hand. "No, that's not what I mean. Listen... if the other gangs think you're my mole in the NYPD, then no one would touch you. Not without making it look like a direct attack on me. And Rossiani wouldn't risk that. Attacking you would be like spitting in my face. He's too careful for that."

She looks at me like I've just spoken in another language. "Leo... what exactly are you saying?"

I kiss her palm, then lower it to her stomach, pressing it gently there. "I think I'm going to marry you."

She stares at me, her mouth slightly open. "You've lost your goddamn mind."

"Maybe," I say with a grin that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "But think about it. If we're married, no one would dare touch you. It's protection. That's all."

She pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing. "I'm a detective, Leo. If I do this, I lose every ounce of credibility I've built in the force. My career, everything I've worked for, gone."

I sit up, turning to face her fully. "Liz, I'd rather you lose your job than your life. Rossiani killed a captain, someone high up in your ranks. What do you think he'd do to you if he gets his hands on you?"

Her jaw tightens, and she looks away. "You promised to keep me safe," she says softly, her voice shaking just a little.

I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "And that's exactly what I'm trying to do. This is the only way." The room feels heavy with tension, thick with unspoken words. My gut twists as I say the next part because I know how much she values her career, her independence. "We don't have to getreallymarried. Just... enough to buy us some time until I deal with Marco. Okay?"

She stares at me for a long moment, biting her lip. "Okay," she finally whispers, the word barely audible.

I feel the weight in my chest lighten just a fraction.

"When?" she asks, her voice stronger now.

"Tomorrow," I say without hesitation. There's no point in waiting, not with the threat of Marco hanging over us.

She shakes her head, laughing a little. "This is insane."

"I know."

"You're insane."

"I know."

But when she looks at me, there's something in her eyes—something I haven't seen before. Trust? Hope? Hell, I don't know what it is, but it makes me pull her back into my arms and kiss her again. This time, it's rougher, more urgent. My fingers tangle in her hair as I hold her against me, feeling her heartbeat against my chest.

She sighs into my mouth, her body softening as she presses against me. And in that moment, nothing else matters. Not Rossiani. Not the NYPD. Not the insanity of what we're about to do.

It's just her and me.

Tomorrow, everything changes. But for tonight, I just want her.

Chapter 19 - Elizabeth

I wake up to the sunlight cutting through the heavy curtains, squinting as I sit up in bed. My leg throbs, a dull ache reminding me that I'm not exactly in the best shape. I rub my eyes and glance around the room, still trying to get used to the luxury of it all. Silk sheets, thick carpets, and a chandelier—this place screams money.

On the bedside table, there's a note with Leonardo's messy scrawl: "In the office. Get some breakfast when you wake up."

I crumple it, chucking it back on the nightstand. Great. Left alone in a mansion full of God knows who. I shove off the covers, my leg protesting as I swing it over the edge of the bed. My clothes from last night are nowhere in sight, and I'll be damned if I step into anything that doesn't scream comfortable.

His closet is ridiculous, like something out of a fashion magazine—suits, expensive shirts, and ties that cost more than my rent. I grab one of his button-ups, the fabric soft as I slip it on, followed by a pair of his too-big sweatpants that hang off my hips. I tie them up tight, but I still look like a kid playing dress-up.

I hobble down the long corridor, holding on to the banister for support as I make my way downstairs. The second I hit the landing, a few of the men standing around the foyer glance over, muttering in Italian, their eyes lingering. My stomach twists.

"Che fai?" one of them says, eyeing me like I'm some kind of exotic animal.

I shoot him a glare, wishing I could understand more than just a few words here and there.

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