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No one was around at this late hour as she had expected. Other than a few cars parked along the street, they were alone.

“Yeah, it’s not much but it’s safe and dry.”

Thoughtful blue eyes found hers, and he cast a doubtful look in her direction and shoved the car into park.

Before she could open her door, he was out of his and extending a hand. Roman didn’t appear to be a man that ever did anything he didn’t want so she took the considerate offer. And to be honest, she liked his company.

“You, madam, get the full treatment.”

“Thanks, Roman.” With the little smile she could summon, she took his hand, grabbed the ends of her dress, and let him help her navigate the puddles of water on the narrow sidewalk.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pointed up. “Top floor. Sorry, no elevator here.”

“It’s only four floors, I think we can manage.”

She made a move to start her ascent. “Really, I’ve got it from here.”

A strong hold cupped her elbow. “I have no doubt, but still, I’m walking you to your apartment, Seraphina. Maybe even get a goodnight kiss since I’m the one being left out of everything.”

He grumbled something she didn’t quite hear.

“I was raised if you had something to say you either had the balls to say it where everyone could hear or zipped your lips.”

Over her shoulder, she caught a hint of a smirk. “Balls, huh. Okay then. I said it’s a wonder you haven’t been murdered or worse in this dump. I should take you home with me then tease the men with a video call.”

She came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the steps and honed in on the gory part. “Worse?” He made it sound like death wasn’t anything to fear.

His eyes narrowed and he looked abashed for a moment, an expression that softened his hardened facial features for all of a couple of seconds. “That’s what you focused on?” He chuckled. “Yes. Death is by far not the worst thing that can happen to a person.” He raked a hand through his long hair and his eyes hardened with the truth of his words.

“A beautiful woman on dark streets like this and darker staircases in the dead of night dressed like this.” He scanned her with a quick look to signify her evening attire. “Sevastyan sees this and he might put a bullet between my eyes for leaving you here tonight. I think I would like that? My death sitting on your conscience like a fat, dead elephant. I should haul you over my shoulder and take you back to Haven. You can bunk in one of the rooms tonight until we find you suitable quarters if you don’t want to share a bed with me.”

Now her eyes narrowed, and she pointed a finger at his chest and jabbed. “You might look like a Norseman, but you try that Viking move on me, and my knees will greet your balls. Last I checked, not even mafia kings are immune to that.”

He didn’t flinch, but she did manage to get a flare of contempt from him that had her hand clutching the railing just in case he tried to make a move.

She turned and started up the stairs. “You can follow if you want. Four floors, stairs straight up. It’s your legs. I’m warning you, in this heat, you’ll be cursing me and I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’ve been through worse.” He followed her at a sedate pace, his breathing not elevated in the slightest. Damn him.

She heard the same stubborn streak in his words that Sevastyan used. It must be an alpha caveman thing. But she believed him.

“What kind of name is Roman?”

“You first. How did you get the name Seraphina?”

She peeked at him over her shoulder as they turned for the second floor and last flight of stairs. “Mine is common. Yours isn’t.”

She led them down a small corridor with a single lightbulb at the end that did little for her several feet away. “This is me.” She dug in her purse and pulled her keys.

The weight of Roman’s hand on her shoulder brought her up short, mouth gaping open. And that was when she saw what had him pushing her behind him and shouldering in front of her.

Well, hello trouble, you fucking bitch.


Tags: Penelope Wylde Dark Mafia Dark