I’ve been in too many hot places for too long. I’m fucking cold, even with the heat turned up in the car.

“I can’t believe this,” I say to Riona. “After all the nice things I’ve heard about Chicago winters . . . ”

Riona gives a little snort.

“It’s only November,” she says. “It’ll get a lot worse.”

“How could it possibly be worse?”

“Just wait.”

We drive the four blocks to Riona’s office. I bet she’s glad now that we borrowed Dante’s SUV. That wouldn’t be a pleasant walk.

Usually I’d be a gentleman and drop her off right in front of the building while I find parking, but we need to stick together at all times. Especially now that I know Djinn is apparently such a relentless motherfucker.

Riona and I park a half-block away, then run for the double glass doors.

Compared to outside, the inside of the office building feels warm and pleasant. I can smell coffee and fresh muffins from the cafe on the ground floor.

I escort Riona all the way up to her office. Most of the people on her floor have gotten used to seeing me by now. Especially the paralegal Lucy—she gives me a little smile and wave.

I settle down in my favorite chair in the corner of Riona’s office while Riona dives right into her work. I see her plowing through folder after folder every day, but the pile of stuff she needs to get done never seems to shrink. She must be adding to it constantly.

After about an hour, we’re surprised by a knock at the door.

It’s Dante and Nero. Dante’s wearing a proper pea coat, but Nero only has on a black t-shirt and jeans. I’m guessing he’s too hot-headed to ever feel the cold.

Dante says to me, “I thought you might want to go talk to that ex-employee with me. Nero can stay here with Riona.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Riona says without looking up from her papers. “I can be here alone for an hour. There’s a hundred people on the floor with me.”

“Well, I’m already here,” Nero says. “So you may as well enjoy my company.”

He slouches over to my chair, flopping down on it as soon as I’ve vacated the spot. He goes to put his feet up on Riona’s glass coffee table. Still without looking up, she says, “Don’t even think about it.”

Nero grins and swings his legs over the arm of the chair instead, sitting sideways.

It’s strange. I never had a problem with Nero—I like all Dante’s siblings. But I find myself not wanting to leave him here with Riona. I tell myself it’s because I’m supposed to be watching her, keeping her safe. That’s my job. But if I’m totally honest, I look at Nero with his outrageous good looks and his air of menace that I know appeals to women in a very specific way, and I feel something just a little too close to jealousy.