“Right, I’ll try to remember that,” he shot back sarcastically. “Listen, there’s one other thing I wanted to tell you. A week ago, a guy approached Sofia outside her dorm asking questions about me. He claimed to be a cop, but my sources didn’t turn up anything. Called himself Detective James Breechner—the name mean anything to you?”

Just when I started feeling like the threat level was down, a completely unknown variable is brought to my attention. “Never heard the name before. What did he want?”

“She didn’t give him the chance to ask questions after he asked about her relationship with me. He hasn’t shown back up or contacted her again. I wanted you to know so you could keep an eye out.”

The last thing I wanted was to like Michael, but he made it hard not to. I should have given Sofia more credit not to buddy up to an asshole. I wanted to hate the guy for obvious reasons, but that was looking less and less possible. We weren’t going on any fishing trips together or shit like that, but I was willing to admit he might not be all bad.

My phone began to buzz in my pocket, the display telling me Enzo was calling. “Let me grab this … Yeah.”

The gravity in Enzo’s voice had me instantly on alert. “I just got a call. Sofia’s in danger.”

Chapter 24

I hadn’t stopped smiling all morning. It was amazing what love and several mind-blowing orgasms could do for a girl’s outlook. I wasn’t a moody person, but I also wasn’t typically chipper either—no one had ever volunteered me for the Miss Congeniality ballot.

Nico had dropped me off at work with a packed lunch and strict instructions not to leave the gallery until he picked me up at the end of the day. He admitted that he’d been following me since being assigned guard duty and spent most of his days in his car watching me. Though I was a little disappointed in my observational skills, I was glad to know I’d had a protective eye watching over me. We decided if I wasn’t leaving the gallery, he could spend the day at his office and get caught up on some of his own work.

When I got a text from Michael asking me to meet him at a coffee shop two doors down from the gallery, I knew I’d be safe with him, and it was only about thirty feet from work. What could happen in thirty feet? Plus, it was broad daylight in busy Manhattan. I was worried there’d been a development with the cop and wanted to hear what he had to say.