Page 39 of The Forbidden Bodyguard

We were both hanging on by a thread.

I picked up my plate. “Well, if you want to ask me any questions about what Mom experienced, I can try to help.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled as I rinsed my plate and then hightailed it outside onto the balcony.

The vehicle stops. Time’s up. We have arrived.

A doorman opens the door.

I still Stella’s hand before she climbs out, and she glances at me, her eyes rich with fear. I give her one last pointed look.

Stella shakes her head.

Goddamn it.

At least I tried. Today Marino will claim her in one way or another, that will be more difficult to undo than if we just drove away.

A ring will be slid on her finger, and the way I’m beginning to feel about her, I might shoot him for doing it. Unless I get my shit together and remember Stella Voss is my job...not mine.

I climb out after her, remaining close, then shadow her as we head toward the stone entrance of the mansion. Cole and Marshall are on our tail.

Her father stands at the doorway, watching her like a hawk. Dressed in an expensive dark-gray suit and polished shoes, Victor Voss looks every bit the multimillionaire business mogul that he is.

“Three guards? Really, Stella?” Voss gives me and the boys a cursory glance, then focuses his anger back on his daughter.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she grates out. “Before I change my mind.”

His nostrils flare with a fury he’s trying and failing to hide but he lets out a sigh and begins walking.

We’re led into the parlor that Ryder had correctly predicted would be the meeting area. Stella shoots me a nervous glance as Cole, Marshall, and I move to the side of the room along with Marino and Voss’ guards.

It’s like Buckingham-fucking-Palace in here.

My senses are on alert, ignoring the antique furniture, tightly filled bookshelves, oriental rug, and ornate light fixtures. Servants discreetly bring in trays of food and drinks, placing them on the large coffee table in the middle of the room.

“Windows are sealed shut.” Cole says into his comms piece quietly after taking a few steps over to one of the bay windows.

Marshall and I share a concerned look. Who the fuck seals their windows so you can’t get in or, more importantly, out?

Criminals, that’s who.

Then abruptly, the mood shifts to a whole other level as Tony Marino enters, surrounded by five tough-guy security men.

They’re almost as big as me.

The first thing they do is assess the three of us as we stand in warrior stance. Meanwhile, their boss grins at his vast audience like he’s just walked onto a stage.

This isn’t a reality show, asshole.

If it were a movie, he’s the villain who thinks he has all the power. Maybe he does. I don’t have enough data to make that assessment, but one look at Victor tells me more than I knew yesterday.

He’s extremely wary.

What the hell is going on here?

Marino isn’t the young, handsome man you’d want to hand your daughter over to. He looks older than his forty-two years, and there’s something dirty about him.

Death.