I glanced up at the camera sitting above the door and wondered if Sergei was watching the footage in real time. My face was concealed, so the video being used against me wasn’t an issue, and besides, I didn’t think Sergei Stoyanov was the kind of man who could afford to call the cops. I tilted my head toward the camera, and just in case I did have an audience, waved.
Then I tried the handle. The door swung open. Sergei had really put too much stock in his three guards out front. I was just about to enter when my radio crackled to life in my ear.
“I need a hand here. I’m out back, four o’clock.” Vittorio’s voice, quick and low.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I stepped back from the door and turned in the same direction he’d gone. I took off at a runalong the side of the property, vaulting the fence and coming into the large, sweeping back garden.
“Someone’s got him at gunpoint,” Elio murmured in my ear. “I can take them out from here.”
Elio, crouched in a perch somewhere with his sniper rifle, was absolutely unstoppable. The backup that no money could buy. His kind of skills and precision were priceless.
I caught sight of Vittorio in the distance, and the small figure before him, pointing a gun at his back. A smaller shadow stood just behind him.
“Scratch that,” Elio said, a hint of warmth in his voice. “It’s your girl. Seems like we’ve interrupted her saving herself.”
My girl. Of course she was saving herself. She was a fucking force of nature.
I closed in on them, devouring the sight of Katarina, who was now slowly lowering the gun. Tatiana stood at her side. I pushed my mask up and approached them soundlessly from behind.
“Wait, Father Lucciano is here?” Tatiana asked in a small voice.
“Yes, little one. Father Lucciano is here,” I growled, and reached for Katarina. I couldn’t stand one more fucking second of space between us.
She jerked as I hugged her to me, breathing her in. I hadn’t expected Vittorio to find Katarina so quickly. I hadn’t even had the chance to kill nearly enough Stoyanovs yet, though I’d made a respectable dent in their numbers.
“I’m here. I’m here for my wife,” I murmured.
She elbowed me in the side.
I let go, and she spun around and shoved at me.
“Your wife? What right did you have to do that, when I had no idea what was going on? Who are you to do that?” Katarina’s voice rang out, her hands pushing at my chest. The anger was still there, apparently, now clouded with relief. I could see it in herbeautiful face... her emotions written clear as day. Anger and most of all, relief, maybe even a hint of surprise.
“Your husband,” I said calmly.
Her mouth dropped open in outrage. Her hand moved toward my face and met my skin with a slap.
“Who are you?” she demanded again, and a sheen of tears covered her dark-blue eyes.
Words didn’t seem capable of conveying all the things I wanted to say to her.
So I kissed her. I’d always been a more action-over-words kind of guy.
She was shocked for a moment, but then she let me kiss her.
Fuck, it was like coming home after war. My body spoke to her.Remember me, little stray. Remember this and us and everything we are going to be.
Then she realized what she was doing, and her teeth closed on my lip. She bit hard. I had to give it to her, she could savage like the little stray I affectionately called her. Blood filled my mouth. Good girl. Us strays always needed to be able to defend ourselves.
She pulled back. Her pale skin was marked with my blood, dripping down her chin.
It was hot.
I wanted to wear her teeth marks. Her scratches were a badge of honor for a battle well fought and won. I wanted everyone to know.
“Who are you?” she whispered, this time more of a plea than a demand. Her eyes called to me, begging me to make the world make sense for her again.
I cupped her face, pressing my pinkie fingers into the soft, vulnerable underside of her neck, enjoying the feel of her pulse hammering against my skin.