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We walked back to the car. When the garage door opened, it was like driving out into hell, people running, screaming, tripping over themselves, trying to get inside homes and business only for those doors to be shut in their faces. Everyone was so scared that even as we pulled out of a blood-stained, bullet-riddled mechanic repair shop, no one seemed to notice.

Kicking my feet up onto the dashboard, I looked out at the street. “If this were a movie, what do you think would be the soundtrack playing over the scene right now?”

“Most likely Ava Maria.”

I frowned. “A bit cliché, don’t you think?”

“Exactly why I do not like Mafia movies—”

SLAM!

“Fucking Christ!” I sat up, startled by the man that ran up against the side of our car, trying to escape.

“That’s what startles you?” Ethan chuckled.

My head whipped back to him, annoyed. “Shut up and drive. I thought you didn’t want to be late.”

His green eyes glanced at me and, lifting one hand from the steering wheel, he reached it for me.

“What?” I asked, giving him my hand anyway.

He brought up to his lips and kissed. “Il Triste Mietitore—”

“I am not a fan of that nickname.”

“La mia anima.”

“Yes.” I nodded.

He just smirked an

d said nothing, letting go of my hand as he focused on the road. And even though he didn’t say anything, I still had those annoying warm bubbly feelings on the inside. Sinking into the seat, I let my arm rest on his thigh and said nothing, too.

As we were leaving the 15th, Chicago PD was entering.

I couldn’t help but wonder exactly how much more this city could take. I didn’t want to rule over a wasteland.

Buzz

Buzz

Buzz

My phone went on and on in my pocket.

“You aren’t going to get that?” Ethan asked.

“Nope. It’s not Gigi.” It was my grandfather, and I didn’t have the energy to put on an act. “Speaking of Gigi, we are going to be late.”

“No way in hell,” he muttered before stepping on the gas.

I grinned.

Ethan’s love, like his jokes, was in the little things.

ETHAN

I’d rushed home to make it to my daughter only for her to be knocked out cold, snuggled in bed, her hair all over her face and her foot kicked over the pillow.


Tags: J.J. McAvoy Children of Vice Romance