Page 22 of Witness Protection

“He’s not my boyfriend. And you shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for your health.”

He exhaled, leaning over the table. “You’re bad for my health.”

The room was quiet. He sipped his coffee, going through his plan on getting them out of the hotel. He’d have to call in some favors. Antonio Baretti was head of a bigtime mafia family with a huge reach in the city. Cayden was a lone wolf.

“My father kept me locked up for my safety. He said men in his business with loved ones were fools. They were easy to exploit.”

He set his mug down with force. “You referring to me, sweetheart? You think I fucked up by having people in my life I cared about?”

She shrugged.

“I did everything right. No family. No woman. They weren’t killed because of me. But that didn’t make it any easier.”

“This is still revenge. When you love someone, it makes you weak,” she said.

He grit his teeth. “And you’re cold as ice, aren’t you, princess?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You’re the Morenov princess, no? Or wait, you’re the queen now, aren’t you? You call the shots.”

She glared at him, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead and buried. “I have nothing to do with my father’s business, and I have no interest in starting.”

“What do you want then?”

She paused, her mouth opening, but no words came out. Then she answered. “Love.”

Twenty years ago, he probably felt the same way.

But Cayden had given up on love a long time ago.

****

She wasn’t sure how long he was gone, but Sophia heard the moment he came back in the suite. Her breathing picked up, but not from fear. There was something dark and brooding about her captor. He’d killed her father, so she should hate him. She did hate him. But there was more. She could see the hurt in his eyes and hear it in his voice because his pain reflected her own.

He pushed open the en-suite bathroom door. “Get up.”

He’d cuffed her and left for about twenty minutes. Now he was back carrying a plastic bag from a pharmacy. He slid off his jacket, tossing it on the other end of the long double vanity, then began opening a box. She couldn’t see with his wide back blocking her view. It smelled like chemicals. Her nerves picked up as she wondered what he planned to do to her.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“You want to know the name of the man who killed your father?”

“Yes.”

He did a sideways glance towards her. “Cayden.” She was shocked to get an answer from him. His voice was deep, and he never rushed his words. He reached in his pocket for the keys to the cuffs and released her wrists. “Take off the shirt.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What for? You told me to wear it.”

“I don’t want it to get wet. Lose the shirt for now.”

Sophia tugged it off, leaving her in her original t-shirt, and waited. Her arms were all scratched up from the porcelain shards. He patted the toilet seat, so she sat on it as instructed. Was he going to torture her? He was too good looking to be this evil. Then again, she’d never known a good man.

He draped a towel around her shoulders, then stood behind her, pulling her long hair free. When he ran his hands over her hair, his fingers smoothing out the knots, she tensed.

It shouldn’t feel this good.

“Don’t move. Unless you want this shit in your eyes.” She heard a squirting sound and then cool liquid spilled on the top of her head.

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