Hurt her?—
I spin. Punch a hole in the wall. Blood drips down my fist as I run a hand through my hair.
Nobody hurts her. Nobody eventouchesher. Not now, not ever.
I run through the house, this villa I keep quiet because of my business. No staff except when I hire them in on a short-term basis. Nobody to vet, to trust, to betray me.
Sprinting to my garage, I climb in through the scissor doors of my Lamborghini. Tap my hand restlessly against the steering wheel as I wait for the garage doors to open.
The first bus is already trundling up the road for today’s tour. I speed past it, ignoring the shocked faces of the tourists.
I don’t give a damn about my business. About any scandal. About this whole province, or this whole damn country, learning who I really am.
I’ve only got one mission.
Keep Bella safe.
I screechto a stop outside her modest hotel. A small building at the edge of the village with views of the surrounding hills. The Lambo doors flip up and I leap out, my heart pounding. My mind is filled with horrific visions of what could be happening to her.
I don’t care how many men come for her. I’ll tear them all to pieces. I’d kill a thousand men, even if it means she’d hate the monster I’d become, to keep her alive.
An elderly lady is doing a crossword at the front desk.
“Ciao,”I say. “Please call up to room three and tell Bella that Alex is here to see her. Tell her it’s import?—”
“Alex?”
I turn at the sound of her voice. She stands in the doorway, holding a paper bag with a pastry inside. She’s changed into a loose-fitting shirt, open to show a sliver of her chest. Pale pants that reveal a faint outline of her underwear.
I rush across the marble hall, pull her into my arms. She gasps and throws herself against me. Our lips find each other like magnets. Passion burns through us both, scorches like wildfire.
“What are you doing here?” she moans, clutching me tightly. Fingernails digging into me through my shirt.
“We need to talk,” I tell her. “Let’s go to your room. I know you asked for time. And I’d give it to you, Bella. You deserve that respect. But there are things you need to know.”
She looks up at me. Eyes glistening like it’s been years since we last saw each other, not hours.
She licks her lips. Even now, in the tension, the drama, the savage in me stirs when I see her tongue drag across her mouth. I force the lust down. Can’t kill it. But bury it deep enough so I can focus.
“Okay,” she says after a pause. “Let’s go up.”
I take her hand in mine. Together, we walk up the stairs.
“Would you mind holding this?” she says at the door, handing me her pastry bag.
I take it. She reaches into her pocket for her keys. Leans forward so that her pale pants spread across her ass. Showing me a glimpse of her underwear. My steel stirs, again.
Clenching my fists, I remind myself …
Fucking focus.
She pushes the door open?—
And then I leap at her. Push her aside.
An instinct forces me through the threshold.
Years of mafia darkness and blood and grit and horror.
