Page 129 of Stolen Hearts

It’s not that Ican’twalk away from Callie at this point. It’s that I don’twantto. Even if what we’ve become is possibly wrong, not to mention probably dangerous in terms of the peace between our families and all the business we’re doing together.

After the other day, something’s solidified between us. Something that I can’t pretend isn’t there anymore, anddefinitelycan’t pretend is “just an arrangement”. I think that became perfectly clear to both of us when I almost killed that fucking kid outside that bar for touching her.

For touching what I see as mine, and mine alone.

“I know Michael Genovisi told you flat out that the Scaliami family had no vested interest in this when you met with him,” Deimos adds. “And I believe him. But don’t get me started on all the inner conflict and drama with some of the other Commission families—the Barones, Amatos, and Marchettis.”

I nod, not trusting myself to even comment on the situation, given that the only thing filling my head right now is thoughts of Callie.

Of her lips. Of her smile. Of that laugh of hers and the chaos that inevitably follows her into every room. Of the way there’s a certain peace in my world now with her in it, even if she tilts it upside down and inside out on a damn near hourly basis.

“What’s in the other folder?”

Deimos smiles smugly. “Oh, I think you’re going to like this one.”

He tosses it onto the counter as well, half-spilling out what looks like an official Interpol document. I frown as I pick it up and open the folder to a photo of a body, face-down in a pool of blood in a grimy apartment.

“What am I look—”

I freeze when I see the document next to the photo. I can read enough Spanish to understand that the document is a Mexican coroner’s report, documenting in gruesome detail the death by two handgun shots to the head at point-blank range…

…of an international assassin known only as El Cirujano.

My eyes snap up to Deimos’.

“Is this fucking for real?”

He nods. “It’s real, and I trust my source implicitly. Looks like he was on a job to take out a cartel boss when someone got the drop on him.”

I exhale slowly, shoving my fingers through my hair. “Well,shit.”

Deimos dips his chin again. “Like I said, it looks like you’re both in the clear, on all fronts.”

“Aside from the matter of whohiredEl Cirujano.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that,” Deimos says thoughtfully. “And I’m looking into it. But to be honest, I’m beginning to wonder if it was Massimo, and the order neverwasto actually kill either of you.”

“You mean just a shot across the bow to make a point? Let everyone know he’s a big tough dipshit throwing a tantrum because someone else married Callie?”

Deimos smirks. “That’s exactly my guess, the more I think about it. But I’ll keep digging just to make sure. In the meantime, while I think we should all keep security on guard, I think it’s safe to say that Callie doesn’t need to stay cooped up in this place day and night. Which is probably a relief to you.”

I chuckle. “It’shasbeen a little like living with a caged tiger.”

When Deimos doesn’t laugh at the joke with me, I glance up and instantly stiffen at the cold, stern look on his face. His eyes stab into mine, his left fingers drumming the bicep of the opposite arm.

“Castle.”

There’s an edge to his voice. I draw myself up from where I’ve been lounging against the counter, squaring my shoulders as I face him.

“Is she happy?”

I raise one brow. “Being cooped up here? Not exactly—”

“We both know that’s not what I’m asking.”

Silence settles over the kitchen.

“Ares hasn’t guessed. And if Hades had, he’d probably already be over here trying to cut your balls and your head off, in that order.”

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