Chapter 84. His Kind of Justice

Calla sat opposite Rico at the dining table, her face bowed over her plate of eggs, cornetto, and bacon. She avoided his eyes and quietly poked at the food.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around what happened last night. The attack at the party, Leah—with whom he seemed to have a history with Rico, his strange tenderness when attending to her injuries, and the way her held her to sleep last night.

She wouldn’t deny it, the tension was off the roof when he had her wrapped in his arms and cautioned her to sleep. She was stiff, her eyes wide, staring at the wall and hoping his sudden softness wouldn’t go away.

She’d managed to sleep, listening to his low, and strangely soothing breathing.

She’d thought by daybreak, he’d be back to his cold aloof self. Not sparing her a glance and asking her to go home immediately.

But reverse was the case.

Instead, he woke up before her and made breakfast for both of them—which shocked her more than she wanted to a