Once Laurel was out of sight, Laz quietly carried her to her bedroom. Placing her gently on the bed, he tucked her in with care.
"Something wrong?" she asked, her warm eyes roaming his face.
His heart clenched. He couldn't do this right now—he was madly in love with this woman, more than he'd ever realized. He knew he loved her, but at this moment, the intensity of it left him breathless.
"No. Get some rest. I need to make a call," he said, his voice steady despite the storm within.
She nodded and turned over in bed. Laz brushed her hair softly before stepping out through the glass doors into the hallway, then onto the balcony.
As he dialed the number, a familiar Italian-American accent drawled on the other end, "You killed Sniper?"
"You're waging war, Laziel," the man sneered. "Can you handle the wrath I'm bringing your way?"
"It must be nice to have her in your arms, huh? But don't you think I could take it all away...just like that?" He laughed darkly.
