It wasn't your fault.

You told yourself after slipping by the poolside you were walking past and scraping your knee. The mob boss said the same thing when he appeared out of nowhere and carried you like his princess—ordering his men to make sure the pool area would be accident-proof before the day ends.

Now, you sat atop the bathroom counter, legs spread to accommodate Ari between them while he gently tends after your wound.

"Are you okay?" He murmurs, deep voice breaking through the tense silence. However, his gaze was still focused on your knee.