Brave in the face of danger.
“Trying to force your will on her is not working.”
Kane’s right, but he can get fucked if he thinks I’ll admit that.
“It’s my fucking job to keep her safe, so she’ll do as I tell her.”
My friend sighs and mutters something about stubborn assholes under his breath.
“Chiara’s lonely. She’s been much happier since you gave her something interesting to occupy her time. If you refuse to let her leave the estate, at least let her have a computer and phone with internet access, so she can resume her studies.”
I consider his suggestion. It’s not a terrible idea.
“Fine. Sort it out once we get back.”
“You’ll attract more flies with honey, not vinegar, Angelo,” Kane adds. “Try to act like less of an asshole and maybe you two will stop butting heads all the time.”
“Is that how you got into her pants?” I sneer.
“Like I said, she’s lonely.” He leans forward and pins me down with a hard look. “And how I treat her is how she deserves to be treated—with fucking respect. The way you treat her is exactly how your father treats women. Maybe consider that the nexttime you lay down the law and then wonder why she hates your guts.”
Kane’s words echo in my head long after he stalks off to the other end of the jet.
Is he right? Am I turning into my father?
13
Chiara
Angelo has kept his mouth shut since we landed. I half expected him to shove me into a car with Kane and disappear, but apparently he can’t bear to be away from me.
Kane’s fingers brush my hip as he reaches over to unclip my seatbelt while Angelo has a terse phone conversation. His touch makes me shiver, but I make a concerted effort not to react. I’m still slightly embarrassed that I gave in to my libido so easily.
I could try blaming it on PTSD, but we both know that’s bullshit. Besides, having Angelo walk in as I recovered from a mind-blowing orgasm was the cherry on the cake.
A smirk escapes as I recall his furious expression. And the way his cock tented the front of his sweats.
I guess my husband has a voyeurism kink. Hardly a surprise given the creeper has been watching me on camera for weeks.
A man with no personality sits in the driver’s seat. I don’t recognize him, so I assume he’s a new hire. He’s built like a linebacker and appears more than capable of keeping us safe. That he keeps his eyes to himself is a selling point.
Some of the other guards are not exactly respectful when Kane and Angelo aren’t around. Carlo was one of them. Past tense.
My memory replays the moment the bullet blew his head apart. Bile creeps up my throat, and I swallow it down.
"He's what?" Angelo seems angry about something, his default mood, so I delay climbing out of the backseat, needing a distraction from horrible thoughts and curious enough to want to listen in on the conversation. "The fucking idiot," he fumes. "How could he be so stupid?"
Who's he talking about? My eyebrows scrunch together.
“Move your butt, kitten,” Kane says in an amused tone. “Someone’s excited to see you.” And just like that, I forget about Angelo and his mysterious conversation.
Coco barks and yips with excitement when she spots me. Fina laughs as my dog pulls the leash from her hand and comes bounding over. She springs into my arms and licks every inch of skin she can reach while I laugh and cry in equal measure.
Kane wipes my tears away with his thumb as Fina watches. There are questions in her eyes, but she says nothing as I push past her, eager to get changed out of the borrowed clothes I’m wearing.
She follows me upstairs to my room and then pushes the door shut behind her. Felix is curled up on my bed. He lifts his head, sneers for a moment, and then shuts his eyes. Looks like I’m in his bad books. I guess he has abandonment issues.
At least Coco has apparently forgiven me. She bounces around and then hops onto the bed as I shuffle into my closet in search of some fresh clothes that don’t swamp me. I try not to glance in the mirror. Purple bruises and scrapes adorn my body, reminders of my not-so-fun vacation in Scotland.
