Page 57 of Taboo Flames

I gasp, knowing how rough the streets can be. I’ve heard enough horror stories about what kids on the streets are made to do to survive.

What did Gio go through back then? I can’t even imagine.

“He didn’t stay long though. He was rescued by someone called The Godfather.”

“The Godfather? Why does that name sound so familiar?” I muse.

“He’s mentioned often. He’s a kind of savior to most street kids. I hear he picks them up, refines them, and gives them a new life, and then they spend the rest of their life in gratitude and loyalty to him.”

“Gio’s never mentioned him.”

Fabio shrugs over the camera. “I’m not surprised. Things like this are?—”

“Miss Vitale,” one of the staff interrupts.

I look up from the laptop. “Yes?”

“Signore Lombardi’s here to see you.”

“Okay,” I say to him, gesturing for him to let Gio in.

“Don’t go digging further into this, Rory,” Fabio warns sternly.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

He frowns. “At least promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I’ll try my best,” I respond. And just as Gio walks in, I hang up and shut the laptop.

Today, he’s in a charcoal three-piece suit. He looks dapper and mouthwateringly gorgeous, and I can’t believe I get to have a man who looks like him be interested in me.

“You snuck out this morning,” he says in accusation when he sees me.

“Hello, Gio,” I say in return.

“Princess,” he says slowly. Then, his eyes take in the bruising on my neck, and his gaze hardens.

I brush my hand over it. “It hardly hurts.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Aurora. I fucked up. I know it,” he says. “I’m sorry, baby.”

My eyes widen at his apology.

He slowly walks forward until he’s standing before me then digs something out of his pocket and holds it out at me. It’s a tube of some sort. Uncapping the tube, he squeezes out some of the contents onto his fingers, then gently raises my jaw to apply the salve on my neck.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmurs softly.

“I know.”

“I’d never lay my hands on you. You know that, right?”

“I know,” I tell him. Despite the aura of danger emanating from Gio, I’ve always felt the safest with him, and it’s because of the control that’s wrapped around him as exquisitely as his designer suits.

Last night, I caught a glimpse of him stripped of that control, and I think, that, more than anything, had been the most terrifying, knowing that at any point in time when we had been together, his famous control could have slipped.

We stand there in silence, staring at each other, electricity crackling between us. The magnetism between us is brewing and as alive as possible.

Then he yanks me to him, and his mouth brushes against mine. I clutch him tight to me, kissing him desperately.

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