"Michael, thank you. You may leave," his command rang through the room. As we heard the door close behind us, we just stared at each other for a moment.

"If that was the case, then they would want Ethan, not me," I reasoned, breaking the silence.

"That's where you are wrong." I quirked a brow, demanding an explanation.

"Ethan is the brute. They know that he has been around for a long time and can defend himself."

"But so could Scott."

"Don't interrupt me, Mia. Let me finish," he scolded me.

"They don't know you, nor how able you are and therefore as a girl you are an easy target." I wanted to protest, but I could understand where he was coming from. The underworld was a deeply patriarchal society where women were p.a.w.ns and mediums of exchange; it was not uncommon for a woman to be deemed weak despite her being the second to the Boss of an able mob. It just didn't matter to them. "They probably think that you landed the job because you were good in bed." I rolled my eyes because that is a stupid a.s.sumption to make. "Men do weirder things when it comes to women, Mia. Don't roll your eyes at the pa.s.sion in the heart of a man. We are blind when it comes to our women." He winks at me.

"What is with you and calling me your woman?" I ask him rudely.

"I think it's the idea of being domesticated... civilized by a woman that fascinates me. I suppose the idea of having someone to take care of me at the end of the day, the touch of a female is something that I have craved since I got into hiding," he whispered. His eyes fluttered towards the door as if to check that it was locked. His voice was tight but confident as if feeling soothed by the fact that he was able to make the most difficult and dark confession.

"Is that why you kept Cienna around?" I asked him, thoughtfully. He shook his head.

"That was a product of another complex I seem to possess. I have a thing for saving people," he snickered.

"Isn't it weird for a mob boss to be as pa.s.sionate about saving people as you are? I mean, having a savior complex is okay, but when you're in the business all you see are strays. Who do you pick and who do you leave behind?"

"I pick the people with the most potential." Pride seeped from the tenor of his voice.

"So, I am a stray you saw potential in?" He smirked.

"You, my dear kitten, are not a stray. But you do have potential. On top of that, you fit the whole bill with the feminine touch. Might I add that you are an expert with giving people head ma.s.sages?" I groan as the words play over in my head.

"That sounds so wrong, Anthony!"

"You know what? Now that you and I are buddies... why don't you start calling me Michael?" My head tilts to a side as I praise his face. This beautiful killer was giving me a very special part of him that no one else had.

"Why does he call you that?" I ask him, not only out of curiosity but because I have no idea what to make out of his request. Had I any right to call him by a nickname that was given to him by someone he had known for most of his life and trusted to call into his bedroom and treat him while he was most vulnerable? Was I the person that he should trust with his life? I was honored that he thought I was capable, but...

"You will have to ask him that."

"Why?"

"Because that is his story to tell. And to be honest, he's a much better storyteller than I will ever be," he admits before getting up from his seat. "I'll go take a nap. I need to be fresh for tomorrow." I nod.

"They know that we are coming. Cienna called them," I said. I was sure that she had. "What will we do?"

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