“Tyra,” she whispers. Her voice cracks.
The little girl runs past me. She throws herself into her mother’s arms.
Lucia buries her face in the child’s dark curls. She wraps her arms around the small body. She holds her fiercely. She protects her.
I stand in the corner of the room. The air is gone from my lungs.
A kid. A glaring liability. A fragile, breathing reason for the terror in Lucia’s eyes.
The Thunderbolt pulses in my veins. It doesn’t care about my trauma. It doesn’t care about the fire. It demands I cross the rug. It demands I wrap my arms around both of them and slaughter anyone who steps through this door.
I want to claw into my own chest and rip the connection out by the roots. I want to reverse the biological hijacking. I want to be numb again.
But my heavy boots feel glued to the floor. My hands twitch at my sides.
The terrifying truth settles heavy and dark in my gut. I want to destroy the bond. But I also desperately, violently want to surrender to it.
I want to claim the mafia princess and the little girl in her arms.
The rose and childish shampoo mixes with the phantom scent of burning ash.
I can’t do this. I refuse to burn again.
I force my boots to move. I turn around. I walk straight out of the bedroom.
I don’t look back.
5
LUCIA
The heavy mahogany door clicks shut.
The brass latch engages with a solid snap. The suffocating tension severs. The bitter tang of gun oil and baked leather slowly dissipates from the air.
My knees hit the plush cream rug. Arms open wide.
Pink unicorn pajamas and a mop of messy dark curls collide with my chest. Tyra throws her tiny body against mine. Small arms lock fiercely around my neck. The sweet, innocent scent of strawberry shampoo erases the violent energy Rafe left behind.
“Mommy,” she mumbles into my skin.
“I have you, baby.” A desperate kiss lands on the top of her head. “Right here.”
Rosa stands near the bedroom entrance. The nanny clutches a small canvas overnight bag. Her uniform is crisp, untouched by the chaos of the last hour. She has no idea an elite operator just threatened to tear this entire suite down to the studs.
“She wanted her own bed,” Rosa explains softly. “The playroom was too loud for her this afternoon.”
“It is fine, Rosa.” The words shake slightly on their way out. A hard swallow steadies my vocal cords. “Thank you for bringing her.”
Rosa sets the bag on the floor and exits toward the sitting room. Ignorance protects her.
Tyra pulls back. Small fists rub at her bright, intelligent eyes. She stares at the heavy wood of my bedroom door.
“Who was the giant man?”
The high, sweet question twists a sharp blade in my gut.
“Just a security guard, sweetie.” The lie slips out smoothly. “Uncle Dominic hired him for the big party tomorrow.”