Giovanni didn't break the kiss until the absolute last possible second. When his lips finally lifted from mine, he didn't step back. He rested his forehead against mine, his chest heaving, his dark eyes glittering with a lethal, unbothered amusement that made me want to scream. He looked down at my bare shoulders, his tattooed thumb deliberately tracing the edge of my exposed scar, marking me even in the middle of a nightmare.

"Rosa?" Elena’s voice was sharper now, a note of irritation cutting through her exhaustion. "Are you locked in there?"

Panic mutated into survival instinct. I violently shoved Giovanni’s chest, and this time, he actually let me step...