She nods and swallows. “They—” Her voice catches. She clears her throat. “They were going to…”
I don’t let her finish it. Not because she can’t handle it. But because I can’t.
“Don’t do that,” I say. “They didn’t.”
Her head turns. Her gaze lands on me like she’s trying to decide what I am—man, monster, miracle, mistake.
“Where are we going?” she asks quietly.
“My place,” I answer. “New Jersey.”
Her brows knit. “Your… place?”
“Yes.”
Silence again. But it’s different now. Less shock. More calculation. Elsa’s brain doesn’t stop just because she’s terrified. At least not for long.
“Is it safe?” she asks.
“We own the building,” I say. “Security is ours. Plus, one of my brothers and Vito live close by as well.” I nod to the man in the passenger seat.
Elsa turns to look at him. “You’re… Oh. I didn’t know. Sorry.”
Vito glances back over his shoulder then. “Don’t worry about it.”
After that, the ride is silent once again.
We pull off the highway and into a stretch of streets that lead to a stretch of buildings running along the Boardwalk.
The SUV turns into the garage entrance of one of the buildings.
The driver punches in a code, and the gate rises. We drive through and around to a second, private entrance. Anothercode, more security. This gate, more secure than the first, rises as well.
My hand stays on Elsa’s waist as the car rolls to a stop. I feel her inhale slowly. She’s frightened, but she’s dealing with it.
I respect the hell out of her for it.
Vito is out first, scanning the corners, the pillars, the stairwell. He’s quick and precise. I step out as well and do my own scan while the driver, named Angelo, makes a round through the private parking area.
I walk to Elsa’s door and open it, keeping her tucked close, one hand at her lower back, guiding her. She moves automatically, letting me lead.
“Eyes up,” I murmur. “Don’t stare at the floor. You look like prey when you do.”
Her chin lifts instantly. She squares her shoulders and walks at my rushed pace, even in heels that weren’t built for running from men with guns.
Vito’s gaze flicks to her and away. Respect. It’s one of the things I like about him. He sees a woman and doesn’t treat her like an object. He treats her like a person.
We move fast to the private elevator. The garage is quiet, but it’s no time to relax. Not just yet.
I key us in. The doors slide open. We step inside.
Elsa’s breath hitches when the doors close.
I press the button for my floor. Then I turn my body toward her.
“You okay?” I ask, softer.
Her gaze moves to my face. “I don’t know what I am.”