Sam didn’t know if it was the blood loss, the pain, or just the devastation of his life over the past few years, but there was something haunting about it.

It sounded familiar.

Had Alex Stone not ignored his plea for her to leave, he would be dead. He’d rescued her from that abandoned factory and sent her on her way.

But she’d returned for him, slamming her car into Sam’s attacker and diverting the bullet that was meant for his skull to slam off the pavement ahead of him. The hearing in his ear was still a little fuzzy, but he was alive. While the fact that she’d taken him to a veterinary student was now a source of hilarity between the two of them, he knew that without her, he would have died that night.

She didn’t owe him anything. She had just done.

Because she believed in his fight.

Because it was the right thing to do.

Now, as the obligatory fireworks began to light up the city of Naples to the soundtrack of a battleground, Sam glanced over to Alex who watched from the window. With her hair tied back in a ponytail, Sam could see the immaculate profile of her face. Her dark skin shimmered under the multicoloured glow of the fireworks and she lifted the rolled-up cigarette to her lips. At twenty-six years old, she was twelve years younger than Sam. But they’d formed a strong bond that went beyond the original attraction.

She’d been blackmailed into Blackridge the same way he was, although the carrot dangled before her was the safety of her siblings.

In the weeks since Sam’s dance with death, Alex had opened up more about her life. Sam knew about her mother’s drug habit and how Alex herself had refused to let her younger brother and sister’s futures be ruined by it. She’d taken responsibility for them, worked several jobs, but it was her skill behind the wheel of the car that put food on the table. Soon, she was winning street races through her town in the Bronx, racking up a reputation and a criminal record.

That was when Trevor Sims had stepped in, preying on her desperation to keep her siblings out of the clutches of the child services system.

Sam and Alex had found comfort with each other, spending a night together. But since then, that passion had morphed into a platonic friendship.

One that had saved Sam’s life.

‘Happy New Year,’ Sam finally responded, glancing at the bandage over his shoulder. ‘I’d cheers you if I could.’

Alex chuckled, blowing the smoke out of the open window.

‘You probably shouldn’t be drinking,’ she said dryly, as she reached across to the side table and handed Sam his bottle of beer.

‘Because of all the pain medication that I’m not on?’