Page 122 of Sinful Honor

But he appeared unapproachable.

“Take my room—get them cleaned up; I’ll whip up some pasta,” he said.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He smiled—just a ghost of a smile, then he turned away and disappeared into the kitchen.

I stared at his retreating back. Something had shifted between us.

In him.

I focused back on my family.

Alessandro and Cristo both stepped aside when I ushered them upstairs.

We were halfway up the stairs when Cristo spoke. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate,” he said, his voice dark and throaty.

I turned around. His unusually stern expression made my skin crawl.

“Thank you.” I looked from him to Alessio, including him in my thanks.

Then I led my family into Gabe’s room.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

The sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway pulled me from my thoughts.

I leaned back against the counter as Sophie and her sisters entered the kitchen, each clad in one of my old, far-too-big death-metal T-shirts—like a runway show of my personal past.

The sight brought a strange warmth to my chest.

Cristo mimicked my stance, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, hell. Looks like Gabe’s wardrobe is having a revival. Some call it trash; I call it vintage.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his comment, but my gaze was drawn back to Sophie. She’d changed, as well, but instead of another tee, she wore the clothes I’d had on earlier, on the flight here.

Before the whole Enzo debacle. Before taking a shower with her.

Was it because she liked my scent? The thought settled like a dark, twisted secret into my chest.

“Hey, you all look great,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Ready for some food?”

We found Sophie’s sisters and cousin in one of the rooms in Fausto’s basement. Why he took Sophie and left them behind was anyone’s guess.

I just hoped they hadn’t had it as bad as Sophie. Hoped they hadn’t suffered through the same nightmares Sophie had gone through.

Thinking about the woman who occupied my thoughts much more than was wise made my gaze snap back to her.

Her eyes met mine, and something in her expression—a softness, gratitude maybe—made my heart beat dully in my chest.

Our time together was limited, counted not even in hours, but minutes, and the weight of that knowledge pressed down on me as if I was trapped beneath a boulder.

I’d gotten a text from Hawk earlier. He was on a flight here to pick them up and take them back home.

I didn’t want her to go.

Wanted her by my side—needed her—but I couldn’t keep her.

Not without risking the lives of everyone around us.

---