I nod, accepting it, remembering the rules of the setup today that I was briefed on this morning. Two bodyguards each, no weapons. The point of it is the return of the captive and face-to-face conversation so that Christian can convince both his father and Bonetti that he’s on their side. Though h
The next morning I wake up to the feel of Christian’s hand on my hip, sliding around to my stomach and pulling him closer against him. I go stiff, still angry and upset about everything that happened yesterday, but he dips his head low and presses a kiss first to my shoulder, and then lower to my ne
“Not today, Iris,” Nico says, a little exhausted. “He can go hungry for a couple of hours. We have to get started.” “What?” I ask, looking at him with wide eyes. “Now?” “Yes, now,” Nico replies, stern, holding my gaze. “Um…” I say, looking between the three of them. “What…what do you want me t
I spend the rest of the day very quietly. Eventually, Nico and Christian do come out of the room and settle at the kitchen table with Frankie, where they hash out a bunch of what sound like really complicated plans. But, despite Nico’s glares and clear silent indications that I shouldn’t be hearin
I start a little a few hours later when Chrisitan climbs into bed next to me. He reaches out a hand to touch my shoulder, but he clearly notices when I tense. “Iris,” he murmurs. But when I don’t say or do anything, he just sighs. “Please talk to me, Iris.” “What do you want, Chris?” I murmur, s
“We have four people,” Nico says, hunching his shoulders and putting his hands out in front of him, begging us to see. “Maybe six, if you could count Tony and fucking Lucy, which I very much think we cannot after the events of this morning. We have no real fire power, no excessive access to cash or
“Enough,” Frankie growls, stepping in front of me and tucking me behind him. “You’re out of line, Nico – go pull your shit together.” “You two,” Nico murmurs, livid, backing off but glancing between us. “What a fucking pair you make. The stripper and the hitman, both with hearts of gold. So fuckin
Christian gasps in horror, stumbling a little as he instantly drops his arm and fumbles at the knife, which falls to the floor. “Iris!” he cries, his voice shaking. “What the –“ But then he growls, grabbing my arm, tugging me aside. I gasp a little in surprise – not pain – and look up into his fac