Page 99 of Lord of the Dark

I froze. Fiona, standing just behind me, shot me a scathing look. Silence stretched until I broke it: "Giovanni, meet Fiona."

He spun, stunned, then went completely still. His eyes darted between us, his expression shifting from shock to pure disbelief. "Holy shit," he muttered, staring at us like we were ghosts. "You two... look like you just crawled out of a bar fight—or worse."

I followed his gaze. Fiona’s hair was still a mess despite her attempts to fix it, her cheek flushed from my grip, marks from our earlier encounter still visible on her skin. Her ankles told the rest of the story. My split lip and the blood on my collar filled in the gaps.

Giovanni slowly sank back onto the couch. "The hell happened to you two?" He leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head, studying us with open amusement. "Looks like two psychos found each other. Almost romantic—in a completely fucked-up way."

I rolled my eyes and stepped aside, letting Fiona take the lead. She fixed him with a look that rendered any explanation from me unnecessary. "Pleasure to meet you... Giovanni," she said coolly.

He stood, approaching cautiously. "Yeah... likewise." His eyes flicked to me, then back to her, as if still processing the sight of us. Then his usual grin returned. "Honestly? I was worried for him. You nearly shattered my knee."

"You deserved it," she fired back without hesitation. "You knew I was innocent." This woman had more fire than anyone I’d ever met.

He shrugged, throwing me a pointed look. "That was his idea," he admitted. Fiona shot me a glare as I opened the safe and put the drugs back. "Yeah, that doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Sometimes drastic measures are necessary," I said without looking up. Then I turned to Giovanni, muttering a few words in Italian—hopefully lost on Fiona—before returning to her.

"Still, pleasure to meet you," Giovanni said sincerely. "Even if... under less than ideal circumstances."

Fiona crossed her arms, remaining guarded. "You could say that."

Giovanni leaned against the cabinet, his finger pointing directly at Fiona's ankles. A wide grin spread across his face. "Madonna mia, Alessandro," he said theatrically, shaking his head. "You really are a sick bastard. Even the Russians don’t leave marks like that."

Fiona followed his gaze, and I watched the flush creep up her neck. Still, she straightened, her posture radiating defiance as if he’d been talking about someone else.

Giovanni jerked his chin toward my split lip next. "And this? Looks like a damn street mutt got ahold of you."

I leaned against the wall opposite Fiona, my eyes locked on her as I smirked. "Only one mutt’s ever dared."

"Mutt?" She arched a brow, baring her teeth in a quick snap. "You provoked it."

Giovanni burst into laughter but quickly raised his hands as if trying to pacify us both. "You two are completely unhinged. Respect, though. Not many go toe-to-toe with him and walk away in one piece."

She folded her arms, shooting me a smug grin. "Oh, he’s still stubborn, but by the time I’m done with him, he’ll jump at a finger snap."

I just shook my head and disappeared into the bathroom without another word. The water scalded my skin, but mythoughts refused to quiet. They dragged me back into the whirlwind—back to Fiona, to what had just happened between us. I braced my hands against the cool tiles, eyes shut, the images flooding in so vividly they nearly overwhelmed me. The way she’d writhed beneath me, utterly powerless yet still burning with defiance. That lethal combination of strength and surrender, woven into her very being, driving me mad.

But it was the goddamn worry gnawing at me—even now, alone in this room. The thought of what lay ahead ate at my gut. She had no idea what was coming.

And Vaughn would pay dearly for dragging her into this nightmare.

The Russians would scent any weakness, any hesitation. And Fiona would be the one to pay the price. The thought of her in danger was driving me out of my goddamn mind. I had to find a way to protect her—at any cost. I wiped the water from my face, took one last deep breath, and stepped out of the shower.

When I returned to the room, I wore only dark jeans. My damp hair fell across my forehead, and I immediately caught her gaze—unflinching, direct. Her eyes trailed slowly over my torso, lingering on the scars marking my skin, following the lines of muscle accentuated by the dim light. She tried to play it cool, but her attention was unmistakable.

An amused smirk tugged at my lips. "You’re making it obvious, you know that?" I knew exactly what the sight of me did to her, and I reveled in toying with that effect. That initial hesitation, the moment she realized she’d been caught, then the way she straightened—like she was trying to flip the power dynamic back in her favor—it was all an open book to me.

She only arched a brow, though a faint flush crept up her neck. "You’re the one parading around like a piece of meat in a display case," she shot back, lips curling in challenge.

Giovanni, leaning against the wall and watching the wholeexchange, let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "You two are a fucking spectacle. I could watch this for hours."

"Don’t get your hopes up, Giovanni," I said dryly. "You’re not invited to the show."

Giovanni grabbed his jacket, grinning as he headed for the door. "Either you two kill each other—or end up ruling the damn world together," he tossed over his shoulder before disappearing, still shaking his head.

"Now what?" Fiona asked, suspicion sharp in her voice—like she already knew she wouldn’t like my answer.

"Now we work on your acting." I pulled on a shirt and jerked my chin toward the door.

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