Chapter 13 - Max

That was my girl. It was good to see her being so fiery, about to tear my skin off for interfering in her life. It was so much better than the timid face she showed at the courthouse, making me worry that the asshole had scarred her for life. This wildcat was the real Brooke; she was still in there and okay, and I loved it, even when she was taking those swipes at my face. Even when she gave up, fuming, I could see she wasn’t really defeated.

“How about dinner?” I asked, dabbing at a particularly good scratch she got under my jaw.

“Okay,” she said, agreeing shockingly fast. “What are you hungry for?”

She was still slightly breathless, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that she was only appeasing me. The wheels in her head were obviously turning, looking for a way to get her phone back. I almost wanted to hand it to her, but it was too soon.

Yes, I wanted her all to myself, but I needed her to be safe. She was mine, and the thought of losing her tore into me worse than her claws ever could. I wanted to express this to her but didn’t want her launching herself across the table to attack me again. Or maybe I did.

It had been rough getting past those hungry kisses before she went upstairs to take a nap. I still wasn’t over how fast she’d responded to me, how consumed I was by the taste of her. No woman had lit me on fire the way that Brooke did, and even when she was trying to rip me apart, my blood raced to hold her close.

“You stay there and relax,” I said, unable to keep from adding that this was her honeymoon, after all. She blanched and sank back into her seat as I whipped up some sandwiches and a salad.

She ate silently, nodding agreeably to whatever I said, and I kept the conversation light, happy to watch her every move. She was exquisite, with her golden-brown hair tossed behind her shoulders and tousled at the crown. I loved that she didn’t try to put it back in place after she displayed rage but let it flow in wild tangles down her back. My hands itched to run over the soft strands, wrap them around my fist to claim her mouth once more.

My work had been piling up, and there were plenty of things I should have been doing instead of dawdling over the last remnants of our meal, but I couldn’t tear myself away from her side.

As she was getting up to take our plates to the sink, the head of my security team called, and I frowned at what he reported. Putting it on speaker, I waved Brooke over to listen.

“The subject has driven past three times now,” he repeated. “He’s currently up at the copse of trees at the corner, looking through binoculars. What are my orders?”

I glanced at Brooke, who hugged her arms around herself, then shot a questioning glance at me. I nodded.

“Let him rot there for now. If he pulls past again, call the cops on him. If he’s still there in an hour, go scare the shit out of him.”

“Yes, sir,” my guy said with gusto, clearly hoping for the latter option.

I ended the call, and Brooke huffed. She was outraged again but this time not at me. I did not stoop to saying I told you so.

“Can we do something? Get a restraining order?” she asked, pacing in a small circle. When I looked at her like she had lost her mind, she slumped. “Is it because he’s so famous that he can just get away with stuff like this?”

“Yes, and rich, and he has a great public relations team. He has such a good reputation because he’s meticulous about keeping his shady deals under wraps. And he has distant ties to the Italian mafia, which always helps keep people quiet.”

“Italian mafia?” she yelped. “He sure never mentioned that.”

“Of course,” I said. “You were such a fan and never knew his real last name is Rossi? People from our line of business don’t exactly take out ads.”

“I’m not his fan anymore,” she all but spat. “Is that why you’re so afraid of him?”

I snickered. “Not at all. His relatives in the old country would unlikely claim him since he’s so high profile. What does scare me about that piece of garbage is that he thinks he’s above the law, above anyone’s judgment, and can get away with whatever he wants. He’s been a degenerate since college, but it seems like it’s gotten so much worse over the years.”

“Can’t we find any other victims? Someone who can help me corroborate what he did?”

I shook my head sadly. “So far, no one’s ever said anything against him. He goes for women who are beneath him in the pecking order, young starlets who’d be too afraid to be smeared on the news and social media if they dared to go against Hollywood’s golden boy.”

I wanted to punch a wall thinking about it, thoroughly pissed off that I couldn’t take care of things the way I usually did. Couldn’t wipe that shitstain from the face of the earth so he couldn’t hurt Brooke, or anyone else for that matter, ever again. Oh, I meant to get it done, but it wasn’t going to be as fast as I wanted. And for the moment, it pissed me off even more that I basically owed my current married state to that little pile of crap.

Brooke was looking at me shrewdly as I wound up the explanation, trying to read my thoughts. Since they were so dark and full of violence, I tried to clear my head of the pent-up rage at Luca and concentrate on putting her mind at ease. She didn’t want to hear it anymore, but she really had nothing to worry about. Not as long as she was with me.

I forced a smile to try to lighten the mood. “It looks like you’re stuck with me for a while.”

It was meant to be a joke, but her face went rigid even as she pretended to laugh, still going along with whatever I said. Having her pissed off at me was almost better than that. I sighed, hoping that seeing the truth about Luca’s obsessive nature would have her softening toward me, at least a little. The fear was back in her eyes, and I wondered if it wasn’t completely because of Luca.

It was our honeymoon, after all. Was she worried I’d force the issue and push for a wedding night?

Oh, I wanted a wedding night. Brooke had gotten under my skin more than I wanted to admit. She was mine, but I couldn’t claim her. Not yet when she was acting so antsy and nervous. I wasn’t Luca. She’d come to me because she wanted me every bit as badly as I wanted her. Based on that kiss from earlier, I wouldn’t have to wait too long.

I stood up, faking a huge yawn that I didn’t bother to hide behind my hand. Barely glancing her way, I strode past her toward the stairs. “I’m beat,” I told her over my shoulder. “I think I’m going to turn in early.” I hid my smile at her noticeable relief as I walked away without another look.

“Um, okay,” she said, her obvious confusion making me grin wider. Was that yearning in her voice?

Would she follow me?

I’d have to wait and see how long it took, but one thing was certain. She’d come around.