Losing consciousness is a strange sensation, one I've never experienced before until now.

As Renee's hands tighten further on my windpipe, my body becomes light as a feather, drifting far away from the madness.

In a strange sort of way, it's peaceful. For the first time in my life, I don't feel anxious.

The yellow lights above my head become a blur, and I simply give into the darkness.

This is my fault. I was stupid enough to get involved with Milo DeLuca. If I'm really being honest about it, my subconscious was aware of the danger.

I didn't know the full extent, but I knew Milo was more than a businessman.

I was a fool, allowing Milo to suck me in after I told myself I'd never let my guard down again for another powerful man after Grayson. Because as much as I try to deny it, Milo's a drug to me. The allure of his presence weakened my rational brain and now, it will be my undoing.

"Get the fuck off her." A female voice breaks through the silence.

I hear loud banging and commotion, enough to startle my subconscious back down to earth.

My blurred vision struggles to focus. I just make out the outline of a gun pointed at the back of Renee's head, held firmly by Amelia.

Reluctantly, Renee releases me. The moment she does, I sit up, choking and wheezing for air as two men pin her down on the floor, tying her hands.

Amelia crouches in front of me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Breathe in slowly if you can. You're okay," she offers gently. The gesture softens her authoritative demeanour for only a second before her intimidating aura returns.

"Adele. Holy shit." Happy appears, running through the door to my aid with much less grace than the poised woman at his side. He stares at me with a wide-eyed gaze, barely blinking. "Oh God, look at your face."

"Thanks, Happy," I manage, my voice hoarse and painful.

Amelia rolls her eyes at him, standing. Happy remains beside me as I watch the scene unfolding in front of us.

The two soldiers drag Renee roughly out the back door. At the same time, another man I hadn't noticed before stands in front of Amelia. He's monstrous in build, with a long viking beard, but his demeanour reminds me of a dog with its tail between its legs. He looks terrified, ghostly white and trembling head to toe.

"How could I have known?" he asks, pleading. "Amelia, please. I have a family. She was calling about our daughter's—"

"Joseph, it was your job to be here," Amelia answers with a lethal look in her eyes. "I can't get you out of this. You know that. You need to go back and wait. He's already on a plane."

Who's already on a plane?

I glance at Happy, hoping for information.

"Milo's in Italy," he whispers, and my eyes widen. Italy? I only saw him yesterday morning. It must be the middle of the night there.

"When did he go to Italy?" I press Happy, who shifts uncomfortably on the balls of his feet.

"He went straight to the airport after I dropped you home," Happy murmurs, meeting my desperate gaze.

"Why?" I question breathlessly. "Does it have something to do with all of this?"

Happy doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. The distant look on his face gives him away.

Milo had an intense phone call in the apartment before he gave me the flashdrive. Then he flew to Italy and now this. Everything must be connected, but how? I don't have enough pieces of the puzzle to figure it out. Yet.

"Amelia, please." The man—Joseph—is on the brink of tears now, and that scares me. More than Renee ever could. "There must be something you can do."

Amelia's eyes soften, but her expression remains hard. Stoic. "Go and wait for him, Joseph," she orders, gesturing to the door with her gun. "Now."

I can't watch the broken emotion on Joseph's face. It makes me dizzy. I turn to Happy instead, begging for insight.

What the hell is going on?

Happy looks reluctant. He glances at Amelia, checking that she's distracted before he speaks.

"Joseph's been watching over you. He took a call from his wife when you got here and he didn't see Renee..." Happy trails off, lowering his voice. "Milo's—"

"Happy," Renee cuts him off, sending daggers to the teenager at my side. It's only the three of us in the apartment now. Her attention turns to me.

So much power radiates from her. I feel inadequate sitting here like a helpless victim as she examines me like this is just another typical evening for her. "How are you feeling Adele? Can you stand?"

"I can stand." I nod. There's no way I'm getting carried out of here like a damsel in front of her.

"Good. The doctor is on his way to my place now to check you over," she explains, glancing at her watch. "You can spend the night with me. You'll be safe." She doesn't pause for even a moment when she asks, "Henri, will you be coming?"

"I'm not leaving her," he states firmly before I cut in.

"I don't need a doctor. Really, I'm fine. I just want to go home," I reassure them, ignoring the throbbing pain pulsating through my body.

Happy looks sceptical. "Adele, you really need to look in a mirror."

Amelia inhales a sharp, impatient breath. "Adele, these are Milo's orders. They're not up for negotiation, I'm afraid. Now Henri, help her to the car. Let's go."

She stands abruptly, turning on her heels.

Happy offers a sympathetic smile, allowing me to lean heavily on him as I attempt to stand. The world spins around me as I do so.

"You okay?" Happy asks gently, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"Never been better," I rasp, half smiling when he scoffs.

"You're a lot tougher than you look, you know," he says.

"I can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult," I breathe, flinching as I do.

Now that the threat of death has dissolved, everything hurts. I hadn't noticed the agony in the moment when adrenaline was keeping me going.

Happy says nothing. He's too busy watching me like I could break any second.

Amelia's car is a beastly, blacked out G-Wagon. It suits her personality perfectly. Happy helps me into the backseat and proceeds to ask me if I'm okay five more times before he also gets in the car.

The fact that he's Milo's brother still astounds me.

I slouch heavily in my seat as Amelia pulls her ringing phone from her pocket, turning the Bluetooth off and holding it to her ear instead. She glances at me from the rear vision mirror as she does so.

I don't know why she bothers; she's speaking in Italian. I have no idea what she's saying.

Happy looks sideways at me. "Milo," he mouths.

I nod, closing my eyes for a moment. I can't process any of this. My head hurts too much.

What am I going to do? Milo promised me safety in return for working for him, but after tonight it's clear that's not an option. Renee got to me, I almost died, and I'm not even sure what she came after me for.

Because I knew about Jordan's death? I shiver, sinking in my seat. Nothing makes sense. I don't know how to get out of this. I don't know what I want.

Logically, I should be thinking about how to get as far away from these people as possible. So why is some deep part of me craving Milo? He's the reason I'm in this situation, yet as I sit here, staring out the car window barely able to move... I realise he's the only person I want to see.

Amelia talks to him for the entire ten-minute drive, looking back at me often as she does so with an unreadable gaze.

We arrive at a long, winding driveway. Amelia has to type in a passcode and use her fingerprint to get the steel gates to open.

Her house is two stories and Victorian. The realtor in me can't help but admire its beauty.

The doctor waits for us beside his Range Rover. He nods curtly at Amelia and offers a small smile in my direction, assessing me head to toe. I must look like shit; I can see it in his expression.

"Doctor Blackmore," he introduces when we get inside.

I like him. He has kind eyes and a calmness about him that makes me feel more at ease than I did moments ago, but I'm not one to be fussed over. I never have been, and that means the next twenty minutes are torture. Doctor Blackmore pokes and prods and examines me head to toe, asking a never-ending list of questions.

He concludes that I'm very lucky. Despite having bruises around my neck, face, and ribs, I don't have any serious damage. Renee didn't have her hands on me for long enough.

He prescribes a decent amount of pain relief and advises I take things easy for the next week or two. Then, Happy walks him out.

"I'll show you the spare room," Amelia says once we're alone. I can tell she's trying her best to be warm, but it doesn't come naturally to her. Her impassiveness reminds me a lot of Milo. It's amazing how similar they are.

For some reason that makes a pang of jealousy tug at my chest, but that must be due to the lack of oxygen my brain's received tonight. Whatever her and Milo are, it's none of my business.

"Thank you," I tell Amelia, following her up the stairs at a slow pace.

She leads me to a large room that looks more like a hotel than a guest bedroom. Everything is crisp white and barely touched.

She seems uncomfortable around me, or maybe that's just her. I can't tell.

"Can I ask something?" My voice is quiet, but still Amelia turns around with a hesitant nod. "Why did this happen? What did I do?" My voice is desperate, but I can't help it. "Milo won't tell me anything and I'm so confused." I release a breath to get rid of my emotions.

The last thing I want is to break down in front of someone as stoic as Amelia.

She examines me with a soft sigh, as if her mind is at war with itself. "You did nothing wrong," she assures me.

I wait in silence, hoping she'll elaborate.

"Please." My words soften her gaze. "Please tell me something."

If she doesn't, I think I'll lose my mind.

"I can't speak to you without Milo's permission. It would be very bad for us both," she answers me like an automated machine. "I'm sorry."

"Of course," I manage, taking a heavy seat on the bed. Of course, she can't tell me anything without the approval of his royal highness.

Amelia looks over me before handing over both bottles of pain relief. "There's a bathroom through there, and old clothes of mine in the wardrobe. Help yourself to anything you need." She rubs her arms awkwardly, looking anywhere but me. "Let me know if you have any trouble."

"Thank you," I tell her numbly, without removing my gaze from the wall in front of me.

I breathe in slowly when she leaves and head for the bathroom, gasping at the sight of my reflection.

I look well and truly beaten. My black eye looks worse than it feels, and the base of my neck has turned purple from bruising. How am I going to explain this at work? Do I fake a car crash? Pretend I was mugged?

My head spins with thoughts. Everything is such a mess.

Nobody will tell me anything, even though it's my life on the line. I don't know how I'm supposed to make any decisions if I have no idea what's really going on.

I don't even know who these people are. What are they doing in America? How is Dante tied to it all?

The panic I feel increases more and more by the second. Even the scolding heat of the shower doesn't help me calm down. I stay in until my skin prunes and change into one of Amelia's silk pyjamas sets, not feeling like sleeping in the tight dress I'd been wearing today.

Climbing into cold, unfamiliar sheets isn't a nice feeling. There's something about sleeping in the comfort of my own bed that has always made me feel at peace, but tonight I don't have that luxury.

Tonight, I'm sleeping in a stranger's mansion so my attempted murderer can't try and track me down again.

I shudder. If Amelia hadn't arrived when she did... I grip the covers tightly between my fingers, trying to take slow, deep breaths, but that hurts. Everything hurts.

Attempting to close my eyes is a mistake. The first image I see is Renee and that twisted smile of hers, watching me.

How could I be so stupid? I thought I was good at reading people, but I couldn't see a killer welcoming me into an apartment with open arms.

Maybe this is my fault. I should have known better, I'm smarter than this. I walked straight into a trap without a second thought and now that poor man who works for Milo may pay for my mistake. I have to make sure that doesn't happen.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I tangle my fingers together and stare at the ceiling. Sleep won't be finding me tonight. Each time the wood of the old house creaks in a low, rumbling groan, I jump. My heart continues to pound so loud I can't hear anything else.

Each shadow I see I convince myself is moving. That someone is in the room with me, watching me, waiting to finish me off.

The wind outside creates a horrible whistling sound through the house. Its high pitch sends a chill deep in my bones, sucking the remainder of my strength away.

Anxiety keeps me up all night. I sit huddled with my phone light on and stare into the unfamiliar shadows, hugging my knees to my chest and praying daylight will come quickly.

This continues until exactly 3:37 a.m., when my door nudges open.

Out of instinct, I freeze. Fear takes hold of my body, keeping me prisoner. It's Mr Bianchi or Renee. Somehow, they've found me. They've found me, they killed Amelia and—

My brain shuts up the minute I see him standing in the doorway, stunned to silence.

Milo.