Page 111 of Sweet Prison

“Baby?”

Some of the weight lifts off my chest. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit lightheaded,” he drawls. “Did we just have sex? ’Cause I might have blacked out and want a repeat.” He glances around, looking dazed and confused. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Canali’s mausoleum. I think you might have a concussion. A severe one.”

Massimo’s forehead furrows. Groaning, he sits up and presses his hand to the back of his head. “Ouch. Whose idea wasit to have sex in a fucking tomb? And why—” He cuts himself off, seeing Salvo’s body. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

For a long moment, he just stares at the corpse. Then, his eyes suddenly widen, snapping to mine.

“Jesus fuck!” A viselike hold locks around my waist as he pulls me to his lap, tucking my face into the crook of his neck. “That fucker. I thought he was going to kill you, angel.” Practically plastering me to his chest, he rocks us back and forth, back and forth. “When he called and told me he had you…”

“I’m okay,” I manage to mumble into his neck.

“And then I saw you curled on the floor… Shit, baby… He pointed a fucking gun at you, and… Oh God—”

“Massimo…”

He buries his hand in my hair, pressing my head more firmly against him while the rocking continues. “I would have died if something happened to you and— WILL YOU FUCKING SHUT UP! I’M NOT SMOTHERING HER!”

“Um… You kinda are,” I snort.

“Oh.” He stops the rocking but doesn’t ease the force of his embrace. “Is this alright? Because I need this, Zahara. Need to feel you, to know you’re safe and unharmed, and to—”

“I’m safe. I’m not hurt, and”—I manage to turn my face, just a little—“yes, I can breathe.”

“Good.” The rocking resumes. “Were you scared? Of course you were. At least you didn’t witness the worst of the bloodbath. You didn’t come in until I finished him, right?”

“Um… actually…”

“That fucking cunt. I wish he wasn’t dead, yet. I want to kill him all over again for threatening you. My sweet, sweet angel…”

I close my eyes and inhale Massimo’s citrusy scent, letting it soothe me. We’ll have time to go over the specifics of Salvo’s death later on. Right now, I just want him to hold me. It feels so damn good to be wrapped in Massimo’s arms—

“Zahara?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Why are your sewing scissors stuck in Salvo’s neck?”

Chapter 26

Two weeks later

“Can I looknow?” I ask.

“Nope. Watch your step.”

There is a sound of a door opening. Massimo settles his hand on the small of my back, ushering me forward.

I don’t need my eyes to tell me that we’re somewhere inside, but there’s a strong breeze blowing at me from every direction. That confuses me a little. Based on the slight echo of my heels on the hardwood floor, though, I’m guessing that whatever room we just entered is sizable. The combined smell of paint and wood varnish hits me first, yet another scent soon battles for supremacy. It’s flowery. Fresh. Jasmine?

“Sorry, baby,” Massimo grumbles next to me. “I had the guys bring the industrial fans to clear out the stink, but it’s still a work in progress.”

Industrial fans? “Will you please tell me where we are?”

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