Page 62 of King Of Order

‘Miss Tirone, your father has passed.’

The smartphone slipped from my grasp and hit the floor with a dull thud, the ominous words articulated still echoing in my mind.

My throat tightened, and a wave of panic surged through me, wild and uncontrollable.

Olivio Tirone was dead.

Gone.

For all his sins, his DNA still existed in me, and losing the last of my parents was jarring.

It was like I was falling, with no one to catch me.

Also, without his protection, I was about to be fed to the wolves.

I gasped, struggling for air, my chest heaving as I tried to fight the terror clawing at me from the inside.

Then, a flicker of realization—a tendril, a thought—cut through the haze.

Rio.

He was close by—the only person I could run to, the only soul steady enough to keep me from falling apart.

Seconds later, I was already moving, bolting out of my room, my heart pounding so hard I perceived nothing else in my ears.

Dawn’s light poured in through the windows.

Still, the hallway was a blur as I raced across the house, impervious to it.

I just needed to get to him.

I lurched into the garden and crossed the lawn to the guest quarters.

When I reached his door, my hand shook as I knocked—no, I pounded—on the wood, frantic.

I smacked the surface so hard the slaps and hits stung, but it didn’t matter.

Agonizing moments passed before the door finally opened.

Rio.

Solid, calm.

In sweats, feet bare, hair ruffled, fresh from bed.

Handsome as fuck, his ink rippling over his skin, more evident in the vest he wore.

His presence hit me like a wall, and I was drowning again.

His face tightened as he raked his gaze over me—at my tear-streaked face, the wild panic in my eyes—but he didn’t ask.

He didn’t have to.

‘Permesso?’ I whispered.

‘Avanti,’ he rasped, his voice gravelly and husky, stepping aside and letting me in.

His chest rumbled in a low, steady hum, a lifeline cutting through the chaos.

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