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up.”
    Kayden gives Carlo a two-finger wave. “Go get your men ready.”
    Carlo turns away, but not before I catch the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, and the word dangerous comes to mind again.
    â€œI have to go,” Kayden says, facing me. “Raul’s a vicious, paranoid bastard, and when you make those kinds of people uneasy, someone ends up dead.”
    â€œYou know this kingpin well enough to know that about him?” I ask, still trying to get a grip on the politics of this, and really not sure how I feel about it all.
    â€œI know the police chief’s favorite beer, too, sweetheart,” he says, and before I know his intent I’m in his arms, his mouth slanting over mine, his tongue doing a deep, passionate stroke before he releases me, and without a word he turns away and starts walking.
    â€œFuck,” Matteo curses, and I whirl around to face him.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œNote the silence,” he says, holding out his arms. “Gallo heard the garage door open, and he’s standing in the middle of the driveway, clearly intending to stop Kayden from leaving.”
    While a paranoid cartel leader with an impatient trigger finger waits for him. I can’t do nothing, and there is no way that doing something won’t have consequences.
    In what’s sure to be a defining moment in my life, I walk toward the front door and unlock it.

two

    â€œN o, Ella,” Matteo shouts, lunging in my direction, but I gamble that he won’t risk a confrontation with Gallo by following me outside.
    I step onto the porch and shut the door behind me. The lawn is alight thanks to the motion detectors Gallo has obviously triggered, but I don’t seem to be able to locate him. Hurrying across the porch and directly into a gust of air that reminds me a hoodie is not a coat, I scan for Gallo and suck in a breath as the wind punishes me for wearing just a hoodie in February. It’s not until I’m down the steps and on the circular drive that I spy Gallo to the left, just in front of the garage, and thankfully the door is now shut. “Detective!” I shout urgently, running toward him. “Detective!”
    He faces me, another gust of wind lifting his trench coat, and even his suit beneath is flapping around. I hug myself and run toward him, trying to convince him he needs to do the same, and it works. He jogs forward to meet me, away from the garage, and the instant I am in front of him, his hands come down on my shoulders. “Are you all right, Eleana?”
    â€œYes. Of course.” I resist the urge to back away from his touch for fear it will shift his attention back to the garage and delay Kayden’s departure. “It’s just—”
    â€œIs Giada okay?”
    â€œGiada?” I blink in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
    The garage door opens behind him, and he releases me, turning toward it at the same moment that Kayden’s ice-blue F-TYPE Jag exits the castle, immediately followed by a black sedan and several motorcycles. Gallo murmurs something fierce in Italian, scrubbing his perpetual two-day stubble before fixing me in a fierce glower. “Did you distract me on purpose?”
    â€œDistract you from what?” I ask, because what else am I supposed to say?
    â€œDon’t play coy with me, little one,” he warns, closing the space between us to tower over me, taller and broader than I remember but just as cranky as ever. “We both know he was in one of those cars you helped to escape.”
    â€œSince when did driving out of your own garage become escaping?” This time I do take a step backward.
    â€œMy badge and I were at his door and he knew it.”
    â€œThe problem with you stalking him is that you’re always at his door, in one way, shape, or form.”
    â€œStalking him?” he repeats. “He really is in your head now, isn’t he? I came to your