“You can’t go back there, angel. Not for a while.” My brows knit together in confusion. “What? Why not?” I watch his mouth move, the words registering. My bones shake with fear, and I hold onto him, not knowing how to react. “Someone broke into your apartment an hour ago. There’s blood… everywhere. And one of my men is dead.” “What…?” I stare at him with wide eyes. I bring my hand to my mouth, adrenaline rushing through my veins at the thought of my imminent death. “Which means that when you saw that orange,” he continues, “chances are they were there minutes before you saw it. I’m sorry,
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