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child, and a surly guard enter a hotel suite.

It sounds like the start of a bad fucking joke. Yet, here we are, and no one’s laughing.

“It doesn’t make sense,” the man says from across the sitting room situated near the front of the three-bedroom suite. Evgeni, the Stepanova woman, called him, though we haven’t been properly introduced. Judging from his voice, he’s the mysterious caller who sent me to the hospital in the first place. “One man kills his partner and tries to take a Stepanov child out of the hospital alone? It’s insane. It’s reckless. It’s…” He lowers his tone, shooting a glance down the hall where said child is resting with his mother. “Mischa will be here soon. Maybe he’ll have more insight.”

It’s already after midnight. Apart from one stabbed guard and one dead one, there was no other attack on the hospital from what information we’ve gathered when the cell phone service returned roughly an hour ago. To put it bluntly, no “fireworks.”

“Care to enlighten us?” I ask a figure lounging on a leather chaise near a row of windows that provide a breathtaking view of the waterfront.

I almost didn’t recognize her at first, the blond who smuggled herself onto Tony’s boat. Somehow, I’m not surprised that her “knight in shining armor,” turned out to be a Stepanov guard. Now that I can pair her features with those of Mischa’s wife, the resemblance is uncanny. A sister?

It doesn’t seem the mystery will be solved any time soon. Considering Mrs. Stepanova collapsed from exhaustion the second we entered the hotel, I can’t question her directly, and Evgeni doesn’t seem inclined to strike up an in-depth conversation.

My knight, she called him. He stands in between us more like a bulldog. His stance is angled toward her, his hands at the ready to repel any potential assault. Does he aim to protect her? Or is his intention more possessive? Like a predator disinclined to share his kill…

“Enlighten?” the blond echoes with a shrug. Despite her swim, she looks none too worse for wear, though her leg is wrapped tightly with towels taken from the bathroom. How she’s still conscious is a miracle.

“I’m as in the dark as you are,” she says, her voice a rasp. “Maybe I was wrong after all? I could have made a mistake—”

“Bullshit.” I take a step toward her, but the guard moves to block my path.

“We’ll let Mischa question her,” he suggests. At least my unasked question has an answer—he’s her guard dog.

Apparently, he was able to get in touch with the mafiya leader after we left the hospital. Though why the hell were his wife and child left with just two guards for protection in the first place?

Yet another mystery.

“I need to make a phone call of my own,” I say, heading for the hall.

I see a flicker of movement near my side, and smell roses. Since we left the hospital, she’s been damn near unresponsive. Considering her knife was stuck in the living guard, I assume she stabbed him.

Without reinforcements, we had to leave him behind to be treated. Knowing Mischa, he won’t get far.

But it still doesn’t make any damn sense. Why send a lone man to kidnap a child? Though, hell. Without being tipped off ahead of time, would I even have had the foresight to think the hospital could be a target?

No.

That question and more weigh on my mind as I open the door to the suite. Time alone to think is as much my reason for leaving as the need to call Fabio. If anyone can make sense of this, it’s him.

“You should stay here, Willow,” Evgeni says as she starts to follow me into the hall. “I’m sure your mother would feel better with you here—”

“No.” I snatch her hand before she can move, making the decision for her. “She stays with me.”

We go far enough from the room to prevent being overheard.

I call Fabio, and he picks up on the first ring.

“What the hell is going on? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours—”

“You’re not going to like it,” I preface before explaining everything that happened since we reached the docks.

“I’ve heard from Mischa as well,” Fabio admits. “It seems the network his men were using to communicate has been hacked. Calls were blocked, signals scrambled. Sometime directly before the blast, most of his men were called back to the manor via an emergency message. They thought it had come from him.”

Well, that’s one question explained. Whoever set this plan into motion must have ensured only two guards would remain, exempt from the fake message.

“Can someone do that kind of shit?” I ask. “Hack an entire network?”

“I haven’t heard of such technology,” Fabio admits. “But who knows? I don’t like this. You should come home. Vincenzo is safe—”

“I know. I made sure of that.”

“But I don’t want you staying in that godforsaken city any longer. I’ve already ensured that Vin will be covered around the clock—”

“I’m not leaving the city while he’s here,” I say. “That’s final.”

“At least promise me you’ll try to get some sleep. It won’t do Vincenzo any good to spend the night lurking around the hospital. I own a property not too far from—”

“There’s a hotel,” I say absently. “I already booked a room. It’s close by.”

I hate the idea of leaving Vin alone, even for a few hours, but I can’t shake the sense that being in a central location is better overall. If the hospital was just a diversion, who knows where the real “fireworks show” might be. And when…

“Good,” Fabio says, drawing my attention back to him. “A part of me wants to question how you could be so reckless. At the same time, you turned this situation around better than expected. Mischa owes you his son’s life. That can’t be denied. I’m sure any previous ‘disagreements’ can be forgotten. You might not need this sham engagement after all.”

I have to chuckle at that. “Same old Fab. Won’t let

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