Chapter 4 - A Ride to the Vet
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The underground garage of the Moretti estate looked like a luxury car dealership, lined with sleek black SUVs, vintage sports cars, and heavy armored vehicles.
Hannah walked slowly, her fingers loosely gripping the improvised slip lead she had fashioned from a spare piece of rope. Nero walked glued to her side, his massive shoulder bumping against her thigh with every step.
Lorenzo walked exactly one pace behind them, acting as a silent, imposing shield against the nervous security guards trailing in their wake.
"In here," Lorenzo instructed, opening the rear door of an armored Mercedes SUV.
Hannah climbed in first, sliding across the supple leather seats. Nero didn't hesitate. The eighty-pound wolfdog leaped in after her, immediately dropping his heavy head onto her lap, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.
Lorenzo got into the seat beside them, the heavy door slamming shut with the solid thud of bulletproof glass locking into place. The partition behind the driver was already raised. It was just the three of them in the spacious, dimly lit cabin.
"You have a remarkable way with animals," Lorenzo said quietly as the SUV surged forward.
"I've worked with severe trauma cases for eight years," Hannah replied, her fingers gently massaging the tense muscles at the base of Nero’s skull. "Dogs don't lie, Mr. Moretti. They only react to what the world gives them."
"Lorenzo," he corrected smoothly. "And you are right. Men lie. Animals survive."
Hannah glanced at him. In the enclosed space, his presence was overwhelming. He smelled of expensive cedar, crisp rain, and danger. She was acutely aware of her own messy appearance—her dirt-stained knees, her damp shelter t-shirt clinging to her full breasts, her messy hair.
Yet, when she met his gaze, Lorenzo wasn't looking at her with the polite disdain she was used to from wealthy men. He was looking at her curves with a dark, consuming hunger that made her pulse jump.
"You didn't hesitate out there," Lorenzo murmured, his eyes dropping to where her hand rested on Nero. "Most people run when a predator gets loose."
"I don't believe in running," Hannah said softly, shifting slightly under his intense stare. "And he wasn't a predator today. He was a victim."
Lorenzo leaned back against the leather, his eyes never leaving her face. "Someone tried to use my animal to create a spectacle. To make me look out of control in front of the city's elite."
"Did it work?" she asked.
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"No," Lorenzo said, a slow, dangerous smile touching his lips. "Because you stepped in the way."
The heavy silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It was electric. Hannah kept her eyes on the dog, but she could feel Lorenzo’s gaze burning into her skin for the entire ride.
