I look outside and see the Italian flag flying high above an industrial hangar. Francisco has brought me to Italy, just like I told him to. I feel a momentary wash of empathy toward the man. In a way, he’s just trying to protect me. Of course, I would have preferred if he had let me in on the secret of my brother’s disappearance. I don’t want to be anywhere except back home, looking for Brandon myself. But this isn’t Siberia or any otherfar removed location. And I’m reminded that I have family here. Maybe they can help me.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and get to my feet. For the first time on the entire flight, I meet my fiancé’s eyes. He looks stern, so I thrust out my chin. I’m not afraid of him. Maybe I’m the only person in the world who isn’t, but that doesn’t change a thing. I want to let him know he can’t bully me.
The hatch pops open, and an attendant rolls a staircase up to the side of the plane. I push past Francisco and step out into the sunlight. It’s refreshing to be back on the ground, but this isn’t the right side of the ocean.
I take one look at the Italian countryside and figure out I’m better off staying put. Maybe I can force the pilot to return me to my country of origin. After all, I don’t even have my passport. How can I possibly embark on an Italian vacation without it?
Francisco moves to block me. His muscular frame takes up the entire hatch, and his gaze is no nonsense. I can’t fight him, but maybe I can reason with him.
“I don’t have my passport,” I say confidently. Surely he has to bow to common sense, and take me back so I can begin the search for my brother.
Francisco reaches into his jacket pocket, removing an American passport book. He flips it open so that I can see my own picture, but then folds it shut and puts it back in his pocket. I’m seething. How dare he steal my passport and hold onto it? Doesn’t he know that’s illegal? Not only has he kidnapped me and brought me to a foreign country against my will, but he won’t let me leave.
“I’m going to find an American embassy,” I threaten.
He sighs. “Please, just come to the villa.”
“I don’t want to go to your villa,” I snap.
“I promise you, you’ll love it,” he responds.
I give him a look that would melt iron, but he doesn’t seem impressed. Furious, I turn away from him and march down the steps. Someone follows with all our bags, including the ones full of the new clothes we just bought. I realize now that he had an ulterior motive for taking me to the most expensive boutiques. He just wanted to make sure I was properly attired when he pulled the rug out from under me.
The fancy clothes don’t assuage my anger at all. I’d rather have my brother back than any amount of luxury goods. But of course, Francisco isn’t in charge of that. The logical part of my brain is telling me that he didn’t have anything to do with Brandon’s disappearance. I don’t like the way he handled it, but he’s not the enemy.
There’s a limo waiting for us just next to the plane. A driver holds the door open for me, and I dive inside. I pick a seat as far away from my fiancé as I can and cross my arms over my chest in a defensive maneuver. It’s possible that Francisco had all the right motives to bring me here. And it was kind of him to buy all the clothing I will need. But that still doesn’t get him off the hook.
I’ll never forgive him for lying about Brandon’s whereabouts, and for robbing me of the ability to search for my brother myself. I know Francisco’s used to running things, but I’ve been on my own for years. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and Brandon. I would have been better off leaving when I had the chance.
I narrow my eyes, determined not to enjoy myself. I don’t care if the scenery outside the car window is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t care that we’re on our way to what is quite possibly a luxurious getaway. I don’t care that I’m safe or that Francisco cares about me in his own way.
He should have talked to me before forcing me on the plane. He should have trusted me to handle things myself. This relationship is off to a rocky start, because I’m not looking for a gatekeeper or a bodyguard. I want a husband, a partner, someone who will love me for who I am. And right now, it’s looking like Francisco isn’t the one.
CHAPTER 26
FRANCISCO
Marlena is trying my patience. I understand she’s in an emotional situation and that I haven’t been completely honest with her. If I had to go back and do things again, I’m not sure I would change anything. My driving need is to make sure she’s safe. It comes above any concerns about her brother, and even above concerns about my business.
I left Giovanni in charge back home, and I know he’ll do a good job. Even though he’s made it clear that he’s happy being my second-in-command, when duty calls, he’ll rise to the occasion. Still, I’m giving up a lot to shepherd Marlena to safety, and to make the connection with her family that I’m hoping will change the game.
Our limo pulls up outside the villa, and I’m pleased to see it’s well taken care of. I don’t get to Italy often, but when I do, I enjoy this little piece of paradise that I own. It sits atop a hill, looking out over a rolling field of green grass. It’s far enough away from the city to be peaceful, but close enough for an evening of festivities if I’m in the mood.
I expect Marlena to be impressed, but she isn’t. She gets out of the car, still fuming. I’m surprised that so much anger can be packed so tightly into such a small body. I’m afraid that if I touch her, I’ll burn.
“This way,” I say stiffly.
She turns up her chin, following me because she has no other options. But she refuses to speak to me, and that’s just something I’m going to have to deal with. I wonder how long she’ll keep up this rage. There’s no other way for me to explain myself beyond what I’ve already said. I just hope that eventually she’ll come around and see that I’ve done this for her own good.
There are two maids at the doorway to greet us. I say hello to both of them, and to her credit, Marlena follows suit. I guess she’s not too angry to follow polite customs, but that’s where her cooperation ends.
I decide to give her a tour, maybe soften her up with a demonstration of our luxurious accommodations.
“Here is the pool,” I say, sliding the glass patio door out of the way to demonstrate the crystal blue waters of our own private oasis.
A stone deck runs all the way to the water’s edge, and a tiny waterfall cascades from an artificial rock wall. In the distance, are the rolling hills of the Italian countryside. There’s a smattering of deck chairs that were handcrafted by local artists, and a full bar in the corner so you don’t even have to go inside to get yourself a drink.
I hope that someday, I might be able to see her lounging by the pool in a bikini. We didn’t purchase one of those Stateside because I hadn’t been thinking that clearly. The whole time wewere shopping, I had my eyes peeled for Andretti’s men. I just wanted to get Marlena out of the country as fast as I could, and keep her in the dark until we crossed the international border.
