Page 248 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

My eyes widened, and I glared at the phone. Uptight? The only one uptight was him.

“Who’ll be there?” Alessandro asked.

“Just you,” Dad said.

Dad wanted him to go out alone on a solo mission? I didn’t like the sound of that. What if Alessandro got put in a—

Stop it, Chiara. You don’t care about him like that.

“I need you to leave tonight,” Dad said over the speakerphone.

Alessandro glared at it, his face void of any emotion about what we’d done. I pulled the blankets over my body and stared up at him, wondering how he’d respond.

Why was this so sudden? Didn’t he think there were bigger things to worry about now that the Sicilian Mafia had started a war on Dad’s land? He wanted Alessandro, our biggest asset, to leave?

Something didn’t feel right in the pit of my stomach, yet nothing ever felt right in this family. We did as we were told. No questions asked. That was how it had always been since I’d been a child and Mom was still alive.

Without another word, Alessandro shut the phone off and said something in Italian that I didn’t quite understand. Then, he pulled out a duffel bag and tossed some clothes and essentials inside of it.

“You’re really going?” I asked.

He gave me a chilling look. The real Alessandro was back.

Cold. Mean. Cruel.

I didn’t know if I’d ever see that vulnerable, passionate side of him again. We had gotten this thing out of our system. We wouldn’t need each other anymore. We wouldn’t crave each other anymore. It was over between us.

Over.

“Of course I’m going to go,” he said, grabbing his gun and stuffing it into his waistband. “It’s work.”

“It doesn’t feel like work. It feels like he’s trying to get rid of you.”

“So, what, Chiara? You care about me now?” he asked. Something in his voice sounded so desperate, as if he wanted me to say so, as if he needed me to tell him that I did care about him.

But … was that what this was? Did I care about him? Could I care about him?

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I found myself saying without even meaning to. At my admission, he looked sort of … upset.

As quickly as the emotions crossed his face, they were gone. He snatched his bag off the bed and stormed to the bedroom door.

I didn’t know what possessed me to do it, but I hopped off the bed—dressed only in one of his oversize T-shirts—and hurried after him. Just as he was about to walk out the door, I grasped his wrist and forced him to turn back to me.

He spun on his heel, eyes wide and wild. “If you don’t—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. It wasn’t want or desire or even lust. This man … this man had constantly sought out ways to protect me even if I was disgustingly rude to him.

When I pulled away, my heart was racing in my chest. His facial features softened, hard gray eyes melting. I gently let my hands glide down his chest, feeling all the hard muscle underneath.

“I do care about you,” I whispered and swallowed hard. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

A million different emotions crossed his face.

I waited and waited and waited for him to say something. To say anything in response.

Instead, he rested his hands on my hips. “Be careful with your guard when I’m gone.”

Then, without saying goodbye, he tossed me the keys to his apartment and walked out the front door.

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