Page 31 of Chasing Kit

I grasped Kit’s elbow. “This isn’t a good idea.”

Kit’s expression was a mix of fear and stubborn loyalty. “He’s my brother. I have to believe he wouldn’t hurt me.”

I didn’t trust Sky’s care for a second, but separating from Kit wasn’t an option. I was his shadow, whether he was walking into a trap or not. We followed Sky out of the café at a clip that suggested even Sabbatini muscle had to worry about cops. A public disturbance meant paperwork or payouts—headaches the Famiglia wouldn’t appreciate.

“I live down here,” Sky called over his shoulder, stalking with an air of importance. I stayed at Kit’s side, ready to scramble for cover if needed.

Sky and his men entered a tall, metallic apartment building in the city center, a monstrosity of windows reaching high into the sky. Kit followed, and so did I. We entered the elevator in silence, and after eye scans and card swipes, we ascended. We stopped on Floor 14, and as soon as the doors opened, Sky strode out. We walked straight into an apartment foyer.

“This way,” Sky said, more to Kit than me.

Kit hesitated before trailing after his brother, shooting a nervous look back at me. I gave a slight nod. I had his back. This wasn’t the brother Kit had described, the one supposedly backpacking his way across the country on a shoestring budget. This version, with his Sabbatini guards and penthouse access, was someone else entirely. I didn’t think Derek knew about this version, either.

Sky led us to a living room that sparkled so brightly it hurt my eyes. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with natural sunlight, and the white and gold décor amplified the expensive atmosphere.

Sky dropped onto a white leather couch with gold arms and patted the spot beside him. “Sit down.”

Kit’s gaze flicked uncertainly around the room as he stepped forward and took the offered seat. I tracked him with my gaze, then moved to stand behind him and the couch. Sky’s bodyguards moved around the room, and I didn’t miss the way they watched me, acknowledging the threat I posed.

“What’s going on, Sky?” Kit asked, his jaw tensing. “This isn’t you.”

“It’s been me for a few years now,” Sky replied with a shrug. “So, you want to know who the Sabbatinis are?”

One of the bodyguards, a man with a brown crew cut and low eyebrows, cleared his throat.

Sky waved his hand impatiently. “It’s fine, Sergei. He’s my brother.” He kept his attention on Kit. “The Sabbatinis are a mob. They run St. Loren.”

Kit’s eyes widened. I watched him process the words and the casual way Sky delivered them without an ounce of fear. “How?” Kit’s voice was a whisper. “How do you know them?”

Sky licked his lips. “I’m with Arrigo Scalia. He’s Riccardo Sabbatini’s cousin.” He dropped the name like it was nothing, but I felt the room’s temperature plummet. Sky wasn’t just in the deep end. He was chained to an anchor.

“Arrigo Scalia,” I said, letting the name hang in the air. “He runs extortion for the family. A real artist, from what Derek says.” I kept my eyes locked on Sky. “He’s also married.”

“It’s complicated,” Sky said, defensive.

“To Francesca Covolo,” I pressed. “That marriage wasn’t for love. It was a treaty that made the Sabbatinis untouchable because the Covolos are in the assassination business. You’re not just sleeping with a married man, Sky. You’re a threat to a political alliance between two of the most dangerous families in the country.”

Sky stiffened and shot me a glare. “He doesn’t love her.”

“You’re with a married man?” Kit gaped at him. “I thought you were better than that.”

Sky glowered. “The wedding was arranged by his cousins. He doesn’t love her.”

“But he’s still legally married,” Kit snapped. “Fuck. You always said you’d never be with a married man. Jesus, Sky. What is wrong with you?”

“I love him,” Sky bit back, straightening in his seat, fingers curling into fists on his thighs. “And he loves me.”

“If he loved you, he wouldn’t be treating you like a whore.” Kit looked around the room again. “Is this his place? Did he put you here?”

“I stay here, yes. He spends nearly every night with me.” Sky breathed out through his nose. “It’s our home.”

“Bullshit,” I spat. “Men like him run the same play every time. You’re useful right now—something new, something uncomplicated. The moment his wife becomes a problem or someone easier comes along, you’re done. That’s not cynicism. That’s just how it ends.”

Sergei took two steps toward me. “I’d watch your tongue. Everything said here will be relayed to our boss.”

“You think I care?” I turned, squaring off with him. These guys were big, pure brute force, but most had never seen war like I had. They didn’t know how to fight smart.

“Stop.” Sky waved his hand again. “Sergei, I don’t need you to defend Arrigo, and neither does he. Go be useful. Leave.”