Page 98 of My Favorite Kidnapper

“You’re fine.”

He indicated I was to go up the steps. “You didn’t bring the bags.”

“They’ll get them.” I looked over my shoulder and saw a man pulling my bag from the car. He went around to the trunk, no doubt to get Dante’s bag, and I turned my head back. I still wasn’t used to being looked after that way.

Inside, I glanced around, noting the luxurious interior. It was cream and navy with deep carpets, wide leather seats, and tables. I peeked up at Dante. “Guess I didn’t notice this on the way here. I was a little out of it,” I said, hoping to make him smile.

He didn’t reply, and I was shocked at his expression. His face was stoic, blank. But his eyes were alight with a fire of agony. I felt my legs go weak, and I began to tremble. “Dante?”

He pressed me gently into a seat, buckling me in. I began to slap his hands, panic setting in. Something was terribly wrong. “Stop it. Dante, stop it. What is happening? Why aren’t we going home?”

He wrapped his hands around the armrests, leaning over me, caging me in. “You are,” he said, his voice hoarse.

He lifted his face and met my eyes. The pain was gone, and his were flat. Cold. Unfeeling.

Behind him, someone else appeared, and I gasped when I saw Richard and the cat kennel he was carrying. Roomba was inside, not looking happy.

Understanding dawned. He was sending me back to Canada. Without him.

I swung my gaze back to Dante. “What are you doing?”

“It’s over, Little Bee. Your time is done.”

“No,” I protested wildly. “I haven’t baked you all the cakes. I have to go with you. I’m fine.” I tried to push him away, grabbing at the seat belt. But he covered my hand, stopping me.

“You are done,” he said, his voice cool. “You’ve become a liability. A nuisance. We’re over. You’re going home. Richard will escort you.”

Liability. Nuisance.

His words hit me, and I stopped struggling.

“No,” I pleaded.

He cupped my face, then pressed his lips to my temple and rested his forehead against mine. He didn’t say anything. I gripped his wrists, my nails digging into his skin. “Don’t,” I choked, barely able to speak.

“Thank you for your time,” he said.

My time? He was thanking me for my time? Not my love? Not what we had been?

My time?

I looked up at him, our eyes locking. Tears poured down my face, and I didn’t hide the pain I was feeling. It hurt worse than any bruise Winters had left on my body.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He smiled sadly.

“I know.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

DANTE

I wandered the condo, unable to sit. I drank whatever was handy, the alcohol barely numbing the pain. One night, I drank myself into oblivion and woke up the next day with an upended table, a black eye, and a cut hand. I had no one to blame but myself, and I limited my drinking.

Nothing was keeping me in Naples, but I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to the villa.

Brianna had only been here a short time, and she was still everywhere. Her laughter soaked into the walls, her scent on my sheets.