Nineteen

Athena

Luciano's eyes zeroed in on my top, a glare blatant on his face. I gave an unapologetic shrug.

"It was all I could find last minute," I grumbled.

Today was supposed to be my "No Luciano in my Face Day,". I had been knee-deep into files from the Bureau, racking my head on the several murders that the mafia had been responsible for in the past few weeks. It was crazy. They had killed and maimed about ten people in all.

And the mastermind of it all was the man in front of me. The sinfully hot man stood shirtless before his door, his chest contracting with each breath he took, glaring at me for being indecent while there was not a stitch of clothing on his fucking chest.

The damn irony.

"When do we leave?" I asked when it seemed like we would spend the whole fucking day standing by his door glaring at each other. If he had nothing better to do, well I did. I had. Someone had to expose him as the devil he was and afterward, I could put a knife in him and be done with it.