Chapter 14

MIA

B efore she passed, I'd promised Bianca I would take care of her home.

I'd committed to tending her gardens and keeping the interior spotless to preserve it, as she'd said with a wink, for its subsequent owners.

I said as much to Lorenzo over breakfast when the weekend rolled around.

His brow furrowed. ‘You want to go the fuck where?'

‘Back to the mountains. I have to check on Blue Bliss, Bianca's home.'

‘While it sounds like a pleasant enough getaway,' Lorenzo drawled, his eyes solemn, ‘I'm not sure I want to risk it.'

‘We'll be safe,' I reassured him.

He cocked a brow. ‘How can you be sure, bella?'

I gazed at him over the top of my steaming coffee mug. ‘Because nothing happens in the ranges. I also need to do it, with or without you.'

My tone left no room for an argument.

He speared the roasted broccolini that lay over his perfectly poached egg and ate, his lips moving slow and sensual as he gazed at me. ‘Alright, let's go,' he finally rasped.

‘I'll drive,' Mauri announced. ‘My leg is now up to the ride.'

I clapped my hands in delight at the prospect of a drive, a break away from our unintended lock down.

I was also keen to escape the pressure cooker environment.

The last few days had been an exercise in control, as our eyes locked, breaths hitched, hands brushed, and skin touched as we passed each other in hallways and corridors, in the kitchen, cooking and washing together.

He hadn't kissed me again, and it irked me, played with my mind, threw me off my game.

Sitting next to him and watching TV at night were some of the worst moments. My hands itched to stroke him and have him stroking me, curving in and out of me. It didn't help that his scorching gaze was always on me, undressing me, flooding me, making me wet.

But he didn't reach for me, and as a result, I was a mess of unmet sexual and sensual needs.

Perhaps the cold, brisk air of the mountains would bring some relief.

Half an hour after we'd agreed on our day trip, I sat beside Mauri in his pristine SUV while Lorenzo took the back seat, spreading out his laptop and files, his work never-ending.

The day was sunny, but a cold front was settling in, and as we drove through the uplands and towards Blue Bliss, a chill wind blew across the peaks.

We got to Blue Bliss in under two hours, parked, and stepped out into the crisp mountain breeze.

I led the way to the house, distracting Lorenzo from his work by pointing out the fall foliage. ‘Isn't it pretty?'

His eyes smouldered as he glanced down at me. He reached and smoothed my tresses, tucking an errant lock behind my ear. ‘Some of the leaves are auburn, like your hair. Bellissima.'

Our eyes locked, and I was hit with a seismic wave of feeling for him once more.

Soul ragged with need, I pulled away and tracked to the front door.

I planned to check each room, ensure the landscapers and gardeners had completed their weekly assigned tasks, and do some light cleaning.

Once inside, I moved through the rooms, verifying everything was in order. I even opened the windows to air out the place.

While Lorenzo made calls on the vista-soaked terrace, Mauri limped around the property, checking its security integrity as I dusted.

An hour and a half later, satisfied, I informed both men that I was done.

‘Perhaps we can stop for lunch on our way back,' Mauri suggested as we piled back into the car.

Lorenzo agreed, ‘Bene, I'm starved.'

‘There's a fantastic local trattoria in town,' I offered.

‘Lead me to food, and I shall go,' Mauri quipped, turning on the car

Soon, we pulled into the village market, finding parking outside the restaurant.

We entered the mom-and-pop establishment, the aroma of fresh noodles and marinara sauce filling our noses. The owner, a man with a round belly and a welcoming smile, greeted us with open arms.

‘Buongiorno! Welcome to La Tavola di Nonna. What can I get for you today?'

We sat down and started with sparkling water for the table. Glancing at the menu, I decided on pasta and wine.

While we waited, Mauri and Lorenzo joked around as men who'd spent time with each other for years did.

The server arrived with our dishes and a bottle of a perfectly matched mild, red Shiraz, which we savoured as we dug into our savoury and abundant fare.

The next hour unfolded into laid-back pleasure, a reminder of the simple goodness of life.

Lorenzo and I sat next to each other, and as we ate, his arm would brush mine, his thigh touched my own, and as we sipped the last of our wine, his arm stretched behind my head.

When he laughed, his breath wafted over my temple, and at one point, he pulled me close, burying his face in my hair when he chuckled.

His touches were subtle, yet each one a possessive claiming, a slow takeover of my defences. I didn't fight it, I freakin' welcomed it, my soul thirsting for this man.

‘We need to get back,' Mauri announced as the sun's golden rays deepened in colour.

With some reluctance, we rose to our feet. Lorenzo paid the bill, and we exited the trattoria and entered Mauri's SUV.

Turning my eyes as I stepped in, I saw a pair of bikies loitering on their Harleys in the street across from us.

I had no clear view of their vests, but still, my breath hitched. Shaking off the cold shiver that ran through me, I settled into the car.

Mauri turned on the car, and we took off.

Sated from the food and wine, we remained silent, lost in our thoughts.

We'd just turned into the feeder road, which led to the highway when I heard the thunder of approaching motorcycles.

Not just one or two. At least twenty, clamouring in from behind us.

Lorenzo sucked his teeth, head swinging, eyes narrowed as he stared out the back window.

‘Fuck,' he muttered.

The road stretching out ahead was empty and desolate, with no sign of civilisation in sight. The mountains loomed on either flank like silent sentinels, watching our impending fate unfold.

I glanced in the side mirror, panic clawing at my chest. My heart skipped a beat as more bikes closed ranks on us, their engines reverberating through the elevated terrain.

Lorenzo peeked out the rear window once more, and his eyes widened. ‘They're armed,' he murmured. ‘Mauri, step on it,' he urged, his voice tight and tensioned.

Mauri didn't need to be told twice.

He tapped the accelerator, the SUV lurching forward as we sped down the narrow mountain road. The riders were gaining on us, their roars louder with each passing second.

They overtook us, engines rumbling like a pack of wild beasts.

Mauri gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white as they pulled closer, hemming us in.

The route ahead twisted and turned with no side roads, offering no easy way out.

‘It's an ambush,' the consigliere snarled.

As the riders drew closer, one revved their engine right next to my door, the loud throb reverberating through the vehicle.

I whipped my head as the bike roared past, my eyes locked onto the insignia of the coiled snake-like cyclone entwined with a rose printed on the back of the rider's leather vest.

That's when I jolted, staring in shock.

‘Give me the gun in the glove compartment,' Lorenzo growled.

As if in a trance, I reached as commanded and pulled out the weapon.

However, I didn't hand it over.

Instead, I held it, glancing again at the riders ahead of us and flanking the SUV to double-check.

I nodded to myself, confirming what I'd seen. ‘Mauri, stop the car. Now.'

Lorenzo knifed forward in his seat. ‘What the fuck, bella? He can't right now. Hand over that weapon, too, so I can blast us out of here.'

‘There is no way we'll make it if you start shooting,' I muttered with wooden stubbornness.

Lorenzo stared at me,

‘Trust me, Mauri, stop the goddamn car,' I repeated, ignoring my Italian complication.

The consigliere refused, shaking his head and flooring the pedal.

I took an inhale and braced for what I was about to do.

‘Forgive me, baby,' I murmured, eyes on Lorenzo as I pointed the firearm at Mauri.

‘I said stop the fucking car,' my snarl just audible over the din of engines.

Lorenzo's eyes met mine, raking over my cold-as-ice expression.

He sucked his teeth and then gave a frigid command to his bodyguard. ‘Do as she says, fratello.'

Mauri inhaled so sharply that his heated breath whistled through his nostrils.

He eased off the pedal, slowed the SUV and rolled to a standstill on the shoulder.

He kept the engine running, his eyes sliced at me, narrowed and dancing with dangerous flames.

‘What's your play?' Lorenzo growled as the bikies also decelerated and formed a ring around us.

A pair did a U-turn, rolled to a stop, leaned the roaring machines onto their kickstands and dismounted.

‘You need to trust me,' I sighed.

Both bikers on approach were imposing, clad in leather jackets adorned with emblems revealing their allegiance to an infamous cartel.

One, the apparent leader, was a lean, muscled, bearded middle-aged man with an air of authority. He eased forward, swaggering towards us.

He was formidable, handsome in a silver fox, George Clooney way if he'd bothered with his styling.

He sported broad shoulders and a neat, light-flecked beard that veiled most of his lower face.

His jacket was covered in bold patches, displaying his rank and status in the notorious gang.

His eyes pierced with a menacing stare, set within a rugged, weathered visage scarred from years of fighting and living on the edge.

I bit my lip, gripped my gun tighter and opened my door, easing out, pointing the firearm at the man loping toward me.

Heart racing, the grip on the weapon tightened, aware that I was about to play a dangerous game of brinkmanship.

I made use of the thick steel door to block my body, aiming the firearm in the space between the car and the window.

Both men smirked, undaunted by my show of force, still motoring towards me.

‘Hey, whaddya know?' the biker flanking the lead biker called out, sneering. ‘It's a Sheila.'

‘Still haven't learnt that women too can kick ass, Billy,' I called out.

The younger biker snapped back in shock. ‘What the fuck?'

The lead man arched a surprised brow, raised a hand, and the pair's advance stopped.

Sun glinted off the windscreen as the Harleys, still with riders astride, revved, and the kookaburras warbled in nearby trees. Yet somehow, a cloud of silence descended on the road.

‘Some once told me that in the old days, you never let your enemy get the best of you,' I said, my voice echoing in the small valley we were stopped in. ‘That's how you survived. The Camerons always had to be tough -'

‘- Man or woman, adult and child,' the bearded biker finished. ‘Mia, what the fuck are you doing out here with a gun in your hand and with our mark?'

‘So this is a hit?' I called across the divide between us.

He crossed his hands over his broad chest, lifting his chin in defiance. ‘Something like it.'

‘Back off then, Angus Cameron, because you won't finish what you're here to start without putting a bullet in me as well.'

I discerned the tense energy ratchet up from the two men in the SUV, Lorenzo in particular, his soft curses permeating the air.

‘I won't do that. Not to you,' the burly biker growled.

‘Then, in the same vein, you won't try and kill anyone in this car.'

My words hung in the air, the quiet between us deafening. The riders exchanged glances, one even spitting on the ground in contempt.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

‘Let us leave without this becoming an all-out war,' I said, lowering the Sig Sauer.

The leader's boots scraped against the pavement as he shifted his feet, the metal buckles scratching the asphalt.

With eyes narrowed, he nodded. ‘You've made our job difficult, young lady.'

‘Life will do that to us,' I replied, easing away from the car door, gun still aimed at the biker's commander. ‘But, we're all fighting our battles, some far greater than others.'

Lorenzo called to me as I moved towards the bikers. ‘Mia! Stay back.'

I ignored his rumbled command and trod with caution toward the burly rider as his eyes raked over me, calloused hands on his hips.

He was the living embodiment of brute power and intimidation.

His massive frame exuded an aura of menace that made even the most brutal bikers tremble. His thick beard and penetrating gaze made him appear more like a mythic warrior than a modern-day gang leader.

That's when I tagged his lip quiver, even as I reached his side, lifted a hand, cradled his bearded cheek, and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his weathered jaw. ‘Promise you'll drop this?' I whispered.

‘Baby girl, I'd walk through hell for you,' came the muffled murmur from the man who'd now enveloped me in his arms.

‘Thank you, Daddy,' I murmured, welcoming the words, knowing that though he meant well, the words would soon be forgotten by him, chaff in the wind. ‘The man you were sent to kill is someone I'd prefer you kept alive.'

Angus ‘Hurricane' Cameron, the supreme leader of the Cyclone Knights biker gang, pulled back and wiped tears from his eyes.

His gaze sliced to the SUV, its engine still running, ‘Is that right?'

I nodded.

‘For you then, I'll drop it, but only after I meet him and make sure he doesn't retaliate on us for this attempt. I've been told he's a ruthless man.'

‘He's an honourable man as well and sensible. You'll discover the same for yourself.'

‘Before you fetch your crush,' my father growled, ‘How are you?'

Years ago, we became estranged when my mother fled the biker lifestyle. I'd still visited Angus on and off over the years at his farm, where he'd instilled in me fierce independence, the required skills to protect myself and his codes of honour.

Now, standing in front of him, my heart swelled with exasperated affection. Even though the time spent together was rare, I still respected him despite his lawless life choices.

‘I'm well, Dad,' I affirmed. ‘Life has been an adventure, and I've learnt much over the years.'

He took a moment, his face etched with care. ‘You've found love?'

I smiled, blinking away the tears welling up in my eyes. ‘I'm not sure, but there's something about the man in that car that makes me want to explore more.'

His face softened, but still, I tagged a hardness in his eyes. ‘In that case, I will heed your wishes. But baby girl, this will not be the end of it, others will try.'

I nodded, my heart aching with the harsh wisdom my father shared.

‘We're well aware.'

My father huffed. ‘You need to be more than well informed. You need to be surrounded by some serious protection.'

‘Tell that to Lorenzo.'

‘Bring him to me,' Angus barked, switching back to his bossy, biker ways.

I shook my head in annoyance, narrowed my eyes at him, and tracked back to the SUV.

From the confines of the luxury vehicle, Lorenzo gazed at me with cold relief, a touch of disbelief, and respect.

Mauri, still shaken, shifted in his seat, giving me a dirty side-eye.

I ignored him.

‘He wants to speak with you,' I announced, pointing a chin at Lorenzo.

He sucked his teeth. ‘Who is he to you?'

‘My father.'

He jolted in shock. ‘è giusto?'

‘Yes, it's the truth.'

He pushed a hand through his hair, a sign of the tension whipping inside him. ‘Fuck me, Mia, you never cease to surprise.'

I shrugged as he raked his azure eyes over me.

Coming to some conclusion, he shook his head and, with a frown, exited the car.

He tracked to me, jerked his chin, and we approached Angus together.

Lorenzo's eyes focused on Angus, his jaw tightening, muscles tense and coiling, a predator on the prowl, ready to pounce on his prey.

‘You're the made man my daughter advocates for,' Angus stated when we drew up, giving him an icy stare when Lorenzo paused and crossed hands over his chest, muscles rippling beneath his shirt.

‘Si, the same one you tried to run off the road and kill,' Lorenzo muttered.

The men stared off for a long moment.

Angus broke the stalemate. ‘My daughter has asked me to back off, and for her, I'll walk to the ends of the earth. In turn, do I have your promise you won't send your dogs after me?'

‘Do you see any hounds in my wake?' Lorenzo drawled. ‘I'm unarmed; it's your daughter who is carrying, sir.'

‘Is that your roundabout way of saying you'll leave me be if I back off?'

‘She tells me you're her father, so I'll do it for her. Only if you tell me who sent you.'

‘A Neapolitan man called Carlo,' my father stated without hesitation. ‘Someone we've had dealings with in the past.'

‘I see, ‘Lorenzo snarled between gritted teeth.

‘Be careful, Lorenzo Calibrese,' Angus went on. ‘These roads can be treacherous and not for the faint of heart. If a hair is harmed on her head, I'll come for you myself.'

‘I understand the underworld more than you know,' Lorenzo growled, just as intimidating as my father. ‘I'll do whatever it takes to ensure her safety.'

Angus grunted, his face a picture of disapproval. ‘Do not let your guard down. I'll make up some excuse about today for Carlo, but he won't stop coming for you.'

His gaze held Lorenzo's as he jerked his chin, a silent promise between both men.

‘Now get the fuck out of here,' Angus growled, raising a hand to his riders, who'd been watching the drama unfold with interest.

With Lorenzo's gun still in my hand, I gave my father one more hug and kiss, then stepped away. ‘Catch you around the traps,' I whispered, aware it'd be at least a year or two before we re-encountered each other.

‘Send me an invitation to the wedding, won't you?' he called out with a smirk as Lorenzo's arm encircled my waist.

We both stared in shock as my father swaggered back to his lethal-looking two-wheeler and sat astride it.

With a grin and salute to us, he started up his engine and rolled off.

His gang roared to life on their Harleys, kicking up dust as they peeled away, disappearing down the road.

Lorenzo led me in silence to the SUV, where he stripped me of his weapon and stored it back in the glove compartment.

He shut the door, leaving us both outside. Mauri's face averted from us, still seated ramrod behind the wheel.

Lorenzo tugged me close, then pushed me against the back door. He ran his hands over my arms and neck, encircling my nape.

Taking his sweet time, he tightened and loosened his grip, letting his ire leak out while I stared into his gaze with defiance.

Finally, he spoke in a hoarse rasp.

‘Woman, what you did was reckless as fuck. You might have been killed.'

He was incandescent with rage.

‘But I wasn't,' I clipped. ‘I took a calculated risk which paid off.'

Lorenzo's eyes glowed with a wild, angry glint as he stared at me. I tagged the remnants of tension on his face, but I understood why he was so amped up. He was a fighter, a protector, and I'd thwarted his efforts in this regard.

He leaned in close, his breath warm on my cheek. ‘What will you do when you're not so lucky next time?'

‘We'll deal with it then,' I snarked, pulling back, meeting his eyes with a bold gaze.

‘You better never do something like that again,' he growled, gruff and guttural. ‘I would have killed them all if you were hurt. Do you understand me?'

I twisted my head to meet his glance, unflinching. ‘I grasp what you're saying. But I couldn't stand by and let this turn into a blood bath. Not when I knew my father was involved. Besides, I have my Angus' promise that he won't touch you, which is his way of saying we're now under his guardianship, from afar, of course. He'll rescind the contract as long as he can trust you to keep me safe.'

He hesitated for a moment, arms tightening around me. ‘Si, bella. You have my protection and my loyalty. But fuck, we came close to the edge today.'

He tugged me into a tight hold, trembling, the first sign he'd given of his sheer terror, not for him, but for Mauri and myself.

His hands stroked up and down my body, shaking with relief.

That he cared so much was touching.

He leaned back and locked eyes with me. ‘Let's go home. Along the way, bella, you'll tell me about your father because I thought all this time you were alone, without family.'

I gave him a wry smile. ‘I am because, despite Angus' displays of affection, he's never really stepped up for me. He tends to disappear at a whim. His gang wars, ambushes, drug trade and his biker way of life have always been more important than those who love him. That's why my mother left.'

Soon, we settled back in the car, and a stone-faced Mauri drove us to Sydney.

I sat in the backseat for the rest of our journey home, Lorenzo holding me close, arm tight around my shoulders, while Mauri focused on the road ahead.

I shared my life story as the mountains gave way to the edges of Sydney's urban sprawl.

‘Dad, whose full name is Angus Hurricane Cameron, was a working-class kid who joined the Australian Army at 19 and served for 12 years. After his honourable discharge, he settled in Bathurst as a truck driver. Even as a child, I saw how much people were drawn to him. He had this way of making you feel special, igniting your passion and making you believe anything was possible.'

‘He established the Cyclone Knights in his garage as a trucker protection ring. It morphed into a biker gang that got into territory wars with other outlaw motorcycle groups. His military experience gave him an advantage at organising men, and he soon became the leader of the state's fastest-growing riders' club. He named himself the ‘supreme general' and ruled the gang with an iron fist, gathering together lost souls who fantasised about being mercenaries. In just a few years, they were one of the most violent of Australia's many outlaw biker clubs.'

‘How about your mother?' Lorenzo asked.

‘Angus dated my mum Trina, whom he met in a bar, but she hated the biker subculture, the violence and the way the girlfriends and wives of the bikers were considered to be ‘property' and the rider girls treated as sex toys.'

Lorenzo made a noise, shaking his head.

I went on. ‘When I was four, she ran away, began a cleaning business, and avoided Angus. He tried finding us, but in true fashion, he soon got distracted by his gang. When I was in high school, he reached out again, and I had a few summer holidays with him at his farm, where I learned how to snipe, shoot and handle my shit. After Mum died, he disappeared, apparently grief-stricken and unable to deal with her passing. I haven't seen much of him since then.'

‘Damn, bella,' Lorenzo murmured. ‘What a life, what a story. Has it caused you much pain?'

‘Don't be sorry for me. I'm used to him not being around. When my mum died, and Bianca was watching over me, he pulled back, perhaps afraid of your aunt and her badass reputation. Plus, the fact she gave him quite a few tongue lashings over the years. Still, when we met up, which was rare, we shared love and affection because, under his gruff beard, Angus can be a sweetheart.'

‘Well, he confirmed Carlo is still gunning for us,' Lorenzo sighed. ‘We have to up the stakes on security. I'll need a few hours with my brothers when we arrive. Grazie, for sharing your story with me. Your courage, cara, is matchless, and every day, I'm more in awe of you.'

His words hit hard, and I inhaled, tears threatening at his sweet.

He tagged them and kissed the corner of each eye, folding me even tighter in his grasp.

Chest heaving, he angled his face away from me. His mood was sombre, and his gaze reflected a dark-edged steeliness.

I shuddered, thinking of the hell the Abrazzios had coming their way.

As the sun waned and dusk crept over the sky, we pulled up to the house and eased out of the car.

Mauri strode off, eyes averted from me, and I sighed.

‘Hey Mauri,' I called after him. ‘I'm sorry.'

The bodyguard paused midstep and raised a questioning brow.

‘For pointing a weapon in your face and forcing you to go against your instincts to protect us,' I extrapolated.

‘You did what you had to,' he murmured.

‘Still, you didn't deserve to be put in that position, and I apologise.'

Mauri nodded, his expression softening. ‘I get it. Just swear you won't take wild risks like that again?'

‘I promise,' I said, guilt hitting me for making him feel so conflicted.

Mauri lifted his chin. ‘ Bene, we're all good,' he said before loping towards the garage house.

Lorenzo took my hand, leading me to the front door. ‘He's going to be OK,' he rasped, fingers threading through mine.

‘Who takes care of Mauri after he takes care of us?' I asked.

‘He's a man of mystery, one I've given up trying to unravel,' Lorenzo told me. ‘Besides, he has Lupo. That black cat is possessed and does a great job of scratching anyone's eyes out who tries to get between him and his beloved owner.'

We laughed as we tracked inside the house, so ready for this day to be over.

It had been tense and brutal, but we had made it through.

Although our situationship was mired in complexity, we had each other, and that was all that mattered.