Chapter 10

**Hannah**

I followed the trail of blood, my body moving on autopilot while my brain screamed at me to run. The crimson path led around the corner into what appeared to be a dining area.

Three bodies lay sprawled across the floor. Two men in expensive suits, one woman in a cocktail dress. All very dead, with bullet holes where important parts of their anatomy should have been intact.

A whimper escaped my lips. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stifle the scream building in my chest.

The sound of a door opening made me spin around. Leonardo stepped out of what I assumed was the master bedroom. His blue shirt was now splattered with red. His hands were coated in blood. And in his right hand, he held a gun.

"Hannah," he said casually as if greeting me for evening tea. "You're early."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't process what I was seeing.

"I see you've met my business associates," he continued, gesturing with the gun toward the bodies. "They were just leaving."

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. "They look pretty permanent to me."

His eyebrow arched in surprise, and then his lips curved into that same predatory smile I'd seen downstairs. "You have a sense of humor. Good. You'll need it."

"What happened?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Leonardo glanced at the bodies as if noticing them for the first time. "Oh, this? They tried to kill me." He shrugged like he was explaining why he'd chosen a particular tie. "I killed them instead."

My knees buckled. I grabbed the edge of a nearby console table to steady myself.

"You're probably thinking I'm some sort of serial killer or psychopath," he continued, casually tucking the gun into his waistband. "I'm not. I'm a businessman with specific interests. I run what you might call an organization. One of several in Los Angeles. These people—" he nudged one of the bodies with his expensive shoe "—work for a rival organization."

"You're in the mafia," I blurted out, my brain finally connecting the dots.

His lips quirked. "That's such an outdated term. I prefer 'alternative enterprise management.'"

A hysterical giggle escaped me. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"You're taking this remarkably well," he observed, studying me with those penetrating eyes. "Most women would be screaming or fainting by now."

"I think I'm in shock," I admitted. "Also, I read a lot of romance novels. The steamy kind. This is like one of those, except with more actual dead people."

Leonardo laughed, a rich sound that seemed wildly inappropriate given the circumstances. "You continue to surprise me, Hannah Mitchell."

The sound of the elevator doors opening echoed through the hallway. Three men in black suits entered, nodding respectfully to Leonardo.

"Clean this up," he ordered, not even looking at them. "Discreetly."

The men moved with practiced efficiency, pulling out plastic sheets and beginning to wrap the bodies. It was surreal watching them work like a twisted housekeeping service.

"I need to shower," Leonardo announced, unbuttoning his blood-spattered shirt. "Feel free to pour yourself a drink. You look like you need one."

He pulled off his shirt, revealing a torso that belonged on a fitness magazine cover. His muscles rippled as he moved, not bulky but defined in all the right places.

"I'll just... wait here," I stammered, trying not to stare.

"Suite's big enough for both of us," he said with a wink. "But suit yourself."

As he disappeared into what I assumed was the bathroom, I collapsed onto the couch, my mind racing. I'd just witnessed the aftermath of a triple homicide. The man I'd agreed to sleep with for money was some kind of crime lord. And instead of running for my life, I was sitting here admiring his abs.

What the actual fuck was wrong with me?

The cleanup crew worked in silence, efficiently removing all traces of the bloodbath. One of them even used a special vacuum on the carpet. Within fifteen minutes, you'd never know three people had died here. They nodded at me as they left, carrying their macabre packages.

I poured myself a generous glass of what looked like very expensive whiskey and downed half of it in one gulp. The burn in my throat felt real, grounding me in this bizarre reality.

Leonardo emerged from the bedroom looking refreshed and impeccable in clean black pants and an unbuttoned white shirt. His hair was still damp, and water droplets clung to his chest. He looked like sin personified.

"Better?" he asked, pouring himself a drink.

"You just killed three people," I said flatly.

"They came here to kill me," he countered. "Business disagreement. They chose violence; I simply responded in kind."

"And this is normal for you?"

"Not ideal, but occupational hazard." He sat beside me, close enough that I could smell his body wash. "I understand if you want to back out of our arrangement. The money is still yours."

I should run. Any sane person would. But something kept me rooted to the spot. Maybe it was a shock. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. Maybe it was the way his shirt hung open, revealing that perfect chest.

"I don't know what to do," I admitted.

"What do you want to do?" His voice dropped lower, intimate.

"I should be terrified of you."

"But you're not." It wasn't a question.

"I'm scared of what that says about me."

Leonardo's hand found mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. "It says you recognize power and aren't afraid of it. That's rare, Hannah. And incredibly attractive."

His touch sent electricity up my arm. Despite everything—the bodies, the blood, the revelation of who he really was—my body responded to him. Heat pooled between my legs, and my nipples hardened beneath my dress.

"This is insane," I whispered.

"Life often is." He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

But I didn't want him to stop. God help me; I wanted him more now, knowing how dangerous he was. What did that say about me? The sensible part of my brain screamed at me to run, to get as far away from this beautiful, deadly man as possible. But my body had other ideas.

"This is your last chance, Hannah," Leonardo said, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers traced a path up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Walk out that door now, and we forget this ever happened. The money is still yours. But if you stay..." His eyes darkened. "If you stay, you're mine. For everything that entails."

I swallowed hard. "What exactly does that entail?"

His smile was predatory. "Pleasure beyond anything you've experienced. Protection from anyone who might harm you. And yes, occasional... complications like tonight."

"You mean dead bodies?"

"Occupational hazard."

I should have been running for the door. Instead, I leaned closer to him, drawn like a moth to a flame that would surely burn me.

"I'm not running," I whispered.

Leonardo's hand moved to my face, cupping my cheek with surprising gentleness. "Last chance."

"I'm staying."

His lips crashed against mine, hungry and demanding. Nothing like the tentative kisses I'd experienced with college boys. Leonardo kissed me like he owned me, his tongue pushing past my lips to claim my mouth. I moaned against him, my hands clutching at his shoulders.