So many considerations, and I’d bet good money DiAngelo has zero clue.
I understand his reasoning, though, behind asking me to randomize my schedule. And as much as changing my routine normally bugs me, I’m happy to do it if it means less chance of putting him in harm’s way. And despite what he may think, I’m not about to roll over and let the Russians get either one of us.
Are you a coward or a fighter?
His challenge took me back to a place I didn’t want to be, a time when I had to face a very similar question, so I avoided answering him. I’ve been avoiding him altogether, if I’m honest. My reactions to DiAngelo are too unpredictable. Too raw. I don’t trust myself around him. It’s best to keep things professional and respectful. After all, this situation won’t last forever. Once the danger dissipates, life can go back to normal.
I wish that sounded more appealing than it does.
Don’t be silly, Rina. You’ll be much happier that way.
I hope so. It’s worked for me these past five years. Why change?
The buzz of my phone relieves me from having to answer the question. Thank goodness.
“Hello,” I answer politely after seeing it’s the front desk calling.
“Miss Donati?” asks a man’s voice, rugged with age.
“Yes.”
“You have a delivery. We were going to send it up, but wanted to make sure you were home to receive it.”
“Yes, that works. Thank you.”
“Our pleasure. Have a lovely day.”
“You, too.”
It takes a good ten minutes before there’s a knock on my door. I spend the entire time racking my brain over what the delivery might be. A look through the peephole confirms thatbuilding staff have arrived with a white box in hand. I give the young runner a tip and take my elegant Neiman Marcus box inside. It’s wrapped in a beautiful black satin ribbon, and the notecard on top simply readsR.
Did Renzo send me a gift?
That’s not exactly his norm, but he’s been extra accommodating since sticking me with a bodyguard. Plus, I think Shae’s pregnancy has softened him, though I’d never tell him that.
Maybe this is a thank-you gift for dealing with his brute friend for the past week. It makes sense.
I untie the bow, a smile blooming on my face as I remove the lid. I start to pull apart the white tissue paper inside when I catch a glimpse of black-and-yellow stripes … and scales.
I shoot backward so quickly that the chair I had rested my knee on crashes to the floor.
A black glistening snout peeks from the box, its forked tongue flicking the air.
I scream and scramble for my phone while keeping a frantic eye on the creature at the same time. My hands are so damn shaky that I struggle to hit a few simple buttons. Eventually, the line rings.
“Yeah?” The strong tenor of DiAngelo’s voice envelops me with relief.
“D, you need to come over here fast! Please, hurry,” I say in a rush.
“What’s going on?”
I can hear the strain in his voice. He’s already in motion, confirmed by the sound of a door slamming in the background.
“I think it’s a snake in a box. I thought it was from Renzo. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have opened it. I didn’t think. I—” My flood of frenzied words is cut short.
“Slow down, Rina,” he says calmly. “I need to know if you’re hurt. Did it bite you?”
“N-n-no.” I shudder at the thought.
