It’s late when I come back to the hotel. Fiore is already in bed, but she turns on the lamp on the bedside table when I return. Sitting up in the bed, she pats a spot beside herself.

“Come here,” she murmurs, yawning a bit. “Come sit. Or even better, get undressed and sleep. You have been going for days now with a few hours’ sleep at a time. I worry about you.”

My lips twitch as I take my jacket off, heading over to sit beside her on the bed. She’s warm from being under the blankets. I hook my finger in the blanket at her thigh, tugging it aside to reveal nothing beneath but bare skin.

“Monster!” she protests, swatting at my hand. But I can tell she really doesn’t mean it. “Where have you been?”

I pull her naked body onto my lap, blanket, and all. She squeaks.

“Hey!” she says. Again, she scolds me, but her tone is missing the sharpness. I bury my face in her collarbone, what little of it there is.

“I found us a better place,” I say it against her flesh, making her writhe. I cup one of her full breasts, squeezing it, and then put my lips around her nipple.

Her response comes out breathy, a sound I can’t get enough of. “You did?”

“Mmhm,” I say, distracting myself by pulling her whole body around so that she straddles me. There’s a blanket in between us, and I feel like that’s far too much.

Grabbing the blanket with my fist, I yank it roughly out from under her. She gives it up with a sigh, resting her forearms on my shoulders.

I’m already hard, and Fiore is tantalizingly close to rubbing her pussy over my cock. My brain automatically estimates that the layer of clothing between us can disappear in seconds.

Fiore presses her ass down onto the tops of my thighs. Her nipples are already hardening. I hear her soft moan, which I swear I could hear for the rest of my damn life.

If I had to choose one thing to listen to, it would definitely be that moan. Or, maybe the one that means I’m balls deep inside her, and she’s about to come.

That one is not to be missed either.

I sigh because this isn’t what I’m here to do. “I’m supposed to be bringing you to the new place as we speak.”

She pauses, the war between her hunger for me and her desire to get out of this hotel room playing across her face. She’s so expressive. I can always read her whole body like a book. “Right now?”

I drop a kiss on her shoulder and nod. “Right now.”

Her head cants. “Will you stay with me for a while to help me get to know the new place?”

She thinks she is so clever, asking for a favor when she really means, am I going to stay and fuck her tonight. I smile indulgently. “Yes, princess. I am going to make sure you have everything you need, you can bet on that.”

The look in her baby blue eyes when I call her that nickname is unmistakable. The way she nibbles on her pink lower lip just so…

I have to push her off of my lap because otherwise, I’m going to fuck the hell out of her. And I know that she would want it. Encourage it.

Maybe even scream my name when I made her come.

Moving her to the side, I get up. “We can fuck all night long as soon as we get to the new apartment.”

Her eyes twinkle. How does she look so damn good sitting there wearing nothing at all? “Is that a promise?”

Walking toward the door, I call back to her. “Or a threat, if you prefer.”

I get her into the car, finally, once she’s fully dressed. We drive up Canal Street, heading for a big block of brand-new apartments, six stories high and made of brick. I see her scoping them out as I help her from the car.

“This is where we’re going?” she asks, a little confused.

“Just wait,” I tell her. “Come on, I’ll take you to the elevator.”

I walk her to the building, swiping a little plastic identification tag at the door. I hand it to her as we go inside to the bank of shiny new elevators.

“It will get you in the door,” I call the elevator, and then once inside I grab her hand and swipe the tag again over a metal box. “You need it here, too.”

I push the button for the sixth floor and the doors close, carrying us upward. When we reach the floor, she steps out first into a blank white room. Other than a bench and a window on either side of us, there isn’t much other than the door immediately before us… and a bodyguard, suited up in all black swat gear.

Fiore looks back at me for a second, unsure. But then the bodyguard sweeps to the side, using a keypad to open the door. It slides open with an electronic beep, and the guard waves us on.

“Fancy,” Fiore mutters as she heads through the door.

On the other side, is an open concept loft. With high ceilings, huge windows lining the walls, and cement walls and floors, it’s been designed by someone with a love of modern furnishings.

To the left, a kitchen and island, all done in polished stainless and the same cement as the whole apartment. To the right, my office and a living area with big white furniture are separated by soaring red-paneled dividers.

More dividers indicate the bedroom. Best of all, though, is the rooftop view.

I glance at Fiore, whose mouth is hanging open. “Come here. Come to see the outside.”

I walk her over to the all-glass French doors next to the kitchen, opening them excitedly. I step back and let Fiore see that the rest of the floor is taken up by a charming outdoor patio, including a little lap pool.

“I… I don’t even know what to say…” she gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth. She seems to be at a loss, coming over and hugging me, still awestruck. “Did you rent this?”

I cock my head. “You know I don’t believe in renting. I bought the whole building, with a mind to rent this space out if we move again.”

“Jesus,” she says, walking over to the side of the building and looking down. “It feels like some other city until I look down on the oak trees and the streetcar running up and down the way.”

“That’s only part of the point. Do you like it?” I ask.

“Monster… I absolutely love it,” she says, looking at me with her baby blue eyes. I see a shimmering of tears just starting there. “Really, it’s perfect.”

She goes back indoors. I follow her as she takes it all in, her eyes wide. The front door opens, and I hear nails clicking for a moment before Cerberus makes an appearance, looking as black and curly as ever.

“Cerberus!” she exclaims, kneeling on the floor and hugging the excited puppy. “I’m so glad to see you! Yes, I am. Yes, I am!”

They play for a few minutes before Cerberus starts sniffing around, whining to be let outside. I crack open the door for him, letting him come and go as he wishes.

Fiore hugs me hard after I let Cerberus out. “Thank you.”

I shrug, keeping my reactions casual. I’m glad to see her so delighted by everything, though. The last week has been hard on me, but it’s been rough for her too. I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice.

She wipes at her face. “I guess I should see everything, huh?”

When she gets to the bedroom area, a big white curtain hangs by the window. Centered there is a pale pinkish-purple velour bed with crisp white sheets, two light wood bedside tables paired with two matching stainless-steel lamps beside it.

She pauses as her eye catches on the lamp, just the way I intended it to. There is a fine gold collar attached to the base of one of the lamps. There’s a length of finely wrought golden chain snaking up the lamp’s stainless-steel spine.

The very same chain and collar that she found wrapped around her own neck when she awoke at my house in Columbia.

She must feel something because her hand goes to her heart. When she looks back at me, I see that she’s out and out crying.

“I don’t know why that makes me sentimental, but it does,” she laments, wiping her eyes on the back on her hand. “I almost want to tell you to go to hell with all of this. It’s too much, Monster.”

I sidle up to her, putting my arm around her. “Come test out the bed with me.”

She gives a choked laugh. “You would say that, wouldn’t you?”

I draw her over to the bed, falling onto the mattress. Fiore catches sight of the collar again and starts crying anew. I don’t mind. I expected her to react emotionally, though I wasn’t sure which emotion she would feel. I also didn’t expect her to react so much, honestly.

So, I’m happy to hold her for a bit, letting her cry all over my white dress shirt. As I lie there, my right foot falling asleep because I don’t want to shift her into a different position, it suddenly becomes startlingly clear to me.

I love this girl. I must if she is so dear to me that I would go through any measure of discomfort for her sake.

Glancing at her messy blonde hair and puffy eyes, all I want to do is smile. That and cheer her up, so I can ravage her. The ache that I feel is with both my heart and my libido; I want her, as I have never wanted anyone before.

I want her love. I want her company. I want all her time; with her smiles, and her tears. I want to always look over and find her there, right by my side.

I fucking love her.

That’s not what comes out of my mouth when I try to say something to her, though. I clear my throat. She looks up.

“Arsen,” I say gruffly. “That’s my first name.”

Wiping away an errant tear, she smiles gently. “I know.”

How long has she known, I wonder? Shrugging uncomfortably, I say, “You can use it if you want.”

She gives me a knowing look. “I may if the situation warrants it. But I find I’m quite fond of Monster. Aren’t you?”

My lips lift a little. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

She settles on my chest again. For a while, we’re both quiet. I’m wondering how she knew my name. Did one of my brothers tell her? It seems likely.

She looks up at me, hesitating. When she speaks, her voice is almost too soft to hear. “I know about Anna too.”

My eyebrows shoot up. I slide out from under her, needing a little space to breathe. “What? How?”

She bites her lower lip, glancing down at the bedspread. “I saw a picture of you two together. Then later, your brother told me about her. I put the pieces together.”

I stand up, pacing to the window. “And what pieces did you put together, exactly?”

She doesn’t look up. “I know… I know you cared for her.” She hesitates again. “I know we have some of the same features, somehow. She looked like me, in the picture I saw. And… I know that she died. Died horribly, from what I heard.”

My fists clench. I turn back toward her, gritting my teeth. “That won’t happen to you, Fiore. Anna’s death was my fault, but—”

For the first time since I’ve known her, she interrupts.

“It wasn’t your fault unless you killed her,” she says, picking at the comforter beneath her body.

I stride over to her, tilting her chin to look up at me. “I swear, I didn’t.”

She shrugs, not resisting. “Then you didn’t kill her. I don’t want to hear you say you did, ever again. You can take responsibility for plenty, but not that.”

I kiss her, pushing her back on the bed. Foolish little girl, trying to absolve me of all my sins. I’d teach her otherwise, someday.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, I will just be lost in Fiore. That’s enough, for now.