Barefoot. Down the beach. As fast as my legs will carry me.
They pound the sand with desperation I wholeheartedly endorse, every step a sharp, stinging reminder that I didn’t imagine him.
That Giovanni Dragoni is real.
Here. Onmybeach.
I’ve kept myself in peak physical condition with a ruthless, thrice-weekly regime of running, boxing, swimming. Not for vanity but for this very reason.
Because I always knew there would come a day when I’d have to fight or flee for my life again.
Run from… from—him.
My husband.
Fear claws up my spine, lodges in my throat as I risk a frantic glance over my shoulder.
And nearly stumble.
Not because he’s right behind me, a nightmare bearing down on me.
No. Because he isn’t moving at all.
Giovanni stands exactly where I left him, hands loose at his sides, dark shirt open at the throat, watching me run like I’m… entertainment.
His head is tilted, eyes narrowed, not with anger, not even impatience.
Amusement.
God. Why…isn’t…he…?
I get my answer a second later.
Men.
His men.
Dark-clad men, not even bothering to blend in.
They’reeverywhere. Not swarming, because no, that would imply effort. They’re spaced with military precision along thebeach, near the tree line, by the narrow road that curves behind the bars and guesthouses.
Inescapable intervals.
I’m burning myself out for nothing, attempting to escape the inescapable. But I can’t stop running. Can’t stophopingfor a sliver of a chance.
Stopping would mean admitting defeat… walking back to Giovanni Dragoni. The man whose name I carry. The man who?—
No. I can’t. I just… can’t.
But this is an island, Lucia. Short of throwing yourself into the sea and swimming to?—
The thought dies as quickly as it forms.
As I learned in the four short weeks we dated—dated, God, if you could even call it that, more like an Italian opera full of lies, intensity, and dangerous devotion, Giovanni Dragoni has unlimited resources.
Unlimited.
He’d have a speedboat circling me before my second stroke. A helicopter with special ops type men hanging off the sides if he felt dramatic.
