Page 38

I stared at the painting, seeing the violence in it, the pain, the burden. “It’s good.”

“Thanks.” He looked at Madigan. “What do you think?”

She studied it for a long moment. “It’s honest,” she said finally. “Brutal, but honest. I like it.”

Luciano leaned close and whispered, “I like her, Sal.”

“Good,” I softly replied. “Because I’m keeping her.”

Luciano looked at me for a few seconds before he slowly nodded, saying nothing more.

Madigan was quiet on the walk back to the hotel, her hand in mine, her thumb tracing absent patterns against my palm.

I didn’t want to let go of her. Not even for a second.

The thought of her leaving, of her going back to that house, made something dark and violent twist in my chest. I had spent the last week with her in a bubble, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. Pretending her father wasn’t out there waiting. Pretending I hadn’t just signed a deal with the man who treated her like garbage. But even I knew reality would eventually creep back in, and I could feel it in the way she held my hand a little tighter, the way her steps slowed as we approached the hotel.

Back in the room, she stood by the window, looking out at the city. The light caught her profile, and I memorized it. The curve of her cheek, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the slight furrow between her brows.

“Salvatore,” she said quietly, not turning around. “I need to go home.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

“No.” My response was immediate, visceral. I crossed the room to her, my hands finding her waist, pulling her back against me. “Not yet.”

“I have to.” She turned in my arms, her eyes meeting mine. “My mother will worry. She’ll think something happened to me.”

“Tell her you’re with a friend.”

“I’ve been gone for two days. She’s probably already worried sick.” Her hand came up to rest against my chest, right over my heart. “I need to check in. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her to stay, to never go back to that house, to let me keep her here where I could protect her. The thought of her walking back into that place, alone, unprotected, made my blood run cold.

“I don’t want you to go back there.” My voice was rough, barely controlled. “Not to him.”

“It’s just for a little while. I’ll come back.”

“You don’t know that.” I gripped her tighter, my fingers digging into her waist. “You don’t know what he’ll do when you get there. What if he doesn’t let you leave again?”

“He will.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Salvatore.” She cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. “I promise I’ll come back. I just need to see my mother and make sure she’s okay. Then I’ll come back to you.”

I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe her. But the fear was there, sharp and insistent, whispering all the ways this could go wrong.

“What if he finds out?” I asked, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “What if he knows you were with me?”

“He won’t. I’ll be careful.”

“Careful isn’t enough.” I pulled her closer, burying my face in her hair, breathing her in. “I just got you. I’m not ready to let you go.”

“You’re not letting me go.” Her arms wrapped around me, holding me just as tightly. “I’m coming back. I promise.”

The desperation in my chest was suffocating. I had spent my whole life being in control, being the one who made the decisions, who protected what was mine. And now I was supposed to just let her walk back into danger, trust that she would be okay, trust that her father wouldn’t lock her away or hurt her or keep her from me.

It went against every instinct I had.