Chapter 49

49

Olivia

I found a mall that opened early in London and made it there with my security in tow. Thank God for early morning shoppers. You would think seven a.m. was a little too early to buy clothes and shoes, but apparently not, for there was enough traffic in the hallways of the mall to help me in my quest. I snuck into a clothes shop, ducked behind a display, grabbed a few T-shirts and headed for the changing rooms at the back. There was no one there, so I ducked into the employees' exit and took the service elevator down. Then I ran to my car and peeled out of the parking lot.

Now, I race the car down the motorway that leads out of London. I watch the side mirror, but I can't see the car that followed me to the mall. Some of the tension drains out of my shoulders. I did it. I gave them the slip. Also, I'm not too worried because Alvaro gave Massimo forty-eight hours to pay the money. That should buy me enough time to, at least, begin to figure things out. I hope.

I fiddle with the radio, find a station that plays rock tunes, then make sure to keep under the speed limit. The last thing I need is a speeding ticket. With every mile that I leave the city behind, the rigidity in my body eases. I sing along to a classic rock anthem , "Smooth Up in Ya" by the Bullet Boys—a song my brother introduced me to. It's one of the few things we bonded over. He loved rock anthems, and I loved to listen to them with him. This was before he grew up and decided he was going to become a typical Mafia man, right down to his attitude toward women.

And is my husband any different? Massimo isn't Diego, that's for sure. He's not as uncaring, or as heartless. Oh, he is as much of a Mafioso, but he'd never barter a woman to the likes of Alvaro. No, he only engineered things so he could force me to marry him. And I can't help but feel that he did it because he wanted me so much. Even if I'm still angry with him about it, maybe I should have told him I needed some space. But would he ever have allowed me to drive out on my own? Of course, not. He's so possessive; and I admit, I do find it hot. But it also worries me that I like it so much. He told me he doesn't want me to hurt myself because it'd be like hurting him, because I'm a part of him, and while that's probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever told me, it's also alarming. I don't want to get swallowed up by his dominance. I don't want to be so dazzled by his charisma that I forget who I am and what I want out of life, what I've sacrificed to get this far.

No, I did the right thing. I just need space and time to think. To figure things out. And I can't do that when I'm with him or under his roof, surrounded by reminders of his presence. I need some perspective on everything that's happened.

I also need to figure out birth control. He's been using condoms, but it's best to be doubly protected. If I become pregnant now… I shake my head. Having Massimo's baby, a boy or girl who looks like both of us? Am I ready to be a mother, when I haven't even managed to get my career off the ground?

It would have been so much easier if he hadn't gotten engaged to my sister. If I'd met him again, under different circumstances... I still wouldn't have been able to stop myself from sleeping with him. And then… I would have forced myself to walk away from him. No wonder he made sure I married him.

If only I weren't so angry with him. If only I weren't already in love with him.

My foot slips off the gas and the car slows down. The car behind me honks, then veers around and drives past, the driver not looking very pleased. I keep my speed at half of what it was. I'm in love with him ?

I'm in love with him.

Maybe a part of me always knew it, but didn't want to accept it. And it's not just about the sex, either. Although that last performance by him most certainly deserves an Oscar. I snicker. Ugh, bad pun, but you know what I mean.

Perhaps I fell for him that first night, when I heard his voice at the bar, even before I saw him, as he growled, you've had enough . The first time I smelled that spice and citrus and smoky firewood scent of his. The first time he ordered me to call out his name when I came. When he compared my muscles to liquid gold. When I walked into Solene's engagement party and tripped into him, after being sure I'd never see him again. When I was injured and half-conscious, with the painkillers still in my system, and I heard his voice asking me to come back to him. Later, when I woke up in the hospital, and the first thing I saw was his features.

When he believed I could still be an actress, despite the scar on my face. When he saved me from the fate my brother had planned for me. When I walked down the aisle toward him... Or maybe, when he moved countries to be with me?

He's shown me he's the kind of husband my father never could be for my mother. He's been in my corner, every step of the way. And I keep coming back to the fact that he shot my brother, who'd have married me off to a monster, then maimed said monster, who dared to touch me; it endeared him to me further.

But really, before all of that, I was his the first time I set eyes on him. Only, I've been fighting him every step of the way. Does love-at-first-sight even exist? Because it sure as hell feels like I'm living it. I reach over, turn off the radio, and keep driving.

How can I feel so strongly for him, yet not want to acknowledge it? Are my prejudices about the Mafia so ingrained that I'd risk running into those who could harm me, rather than staying with the one man who'd give his life to protect me? Am I so focused on holding onto my independence that I'm willing to compromise my safety for it? This... It makes no sense. I make no sense.

My phone rings. I glance at the dash, and Massimo's name pops up. I ignore it. This is the third time he's called me. To be honest, I'm surprised he hasn't been calling nonstop. The call disconnects, then starts ringing again. Oh hell, I'm going to have to answer his call at some point, right? He must be worried sick; I owe him that much. I press the button on the side of the steering wheel, and the call picks up.

"Massimo?"

I glance at the side mirror to find a new car falling behind me. Hmm.

There's silence for a beat, another, then, "You're safe, Via?" His voice is so calm, the tone so even, I gulp. This is not good. He's pissed at me. His anger all but leaps out at me from the call. Shit. Shit. Shit. Of course he's angry, what else did you expect? Still, realizing he's angry, hearing him when he's angry, and knowing I'm going to have to face him when he's angry, is another thing altogether.

"Via?" A note of impatience enters his tone. "You okay?"

"Of course I am." I draw in a breath. Why am I acting like such a bitch? I'm angry with myself for behaving the way I did, so why am I taking my anger out on him?

"Massimo, I?—"

He interrupts me,. "I'm in a car en route to you. I know where you are, Via."

"You do?" I frown.

"Your car and your phone are both?—"

"Tagged?" I burst out. "You're tracking me?"

"You didn't think I'd let you go anywhere without making sure I know exactly where you are, did you? The Mexican cartel is after you."

Goddamn! I slap the steering wheel. Of course he knows where I am.

"You're joking, right?" I gape.

See? This is what happens. Every time I want to act rationally around him, he goes and does something so alphaholish, so presumptuous, that I want to smack him on the head, or better still, on that perfectly tight ass of his.

"Do you think I'm joking?" he growls.

Asshole. "Well, since you know where I am, you can follow me on whichever app you're using to track me." I reach for the button to disconnect the call when?—

"I'm sorry, Via," his tone lowers in pitch. The emotion in his words is unmistakable.

A-n-d, there he is. That sensitive, caring man I know, who exists under that jerkface exterior he likes to present to the world.

"You... you have nothing to be sorry about, I?—"

"I do. I'm not sorry for killing your brother, but I am sorry I manipulated you into marrying me. I wish I could have gone about it differently, but I had to work with the hand I was dealt. I couldn't let go of you, Via." I hear him swallow. " You didn't want me to let go of you."

"Ha, that's what you'd like to think." I glance in the side mirror to find the car I'd spotted earlier drawing closer.

"This is strange," I mutter.

"What's strange?"

"Eh, nothing, just this car that's been following me and?—"

Another car speeds up until it's abreast, then zooms forward into my lane, forcing me to stop.

"What the hell!" I yell as I slam on the brakes. Fear is a sharp, pungent taste in my mouth. Adrenaline laces my blood.

"Via, what the hell is happening?" His voice is tight, like he's reined in all of his emotions. His strength pours through the airwaves, and I hold onto it.

"There's a car in front of me, one behind me, and they've forced me to stop." My voice wavers and I swallow down the uncertainty bubbling up. "Someone… No, two men have gotten out of the car in front. They're coming toward me. Oh my god! They're armed, Massimo," I cry out.

"Listen to me, Via. Don't panic. Don't show them any fear. I'm on my way, and I have JJ tracking down Alvaro, as we speak. I will make sure you're safe, baby, you get me?"

"Y-yes." I squeeze my fingers around the steering wheel. "I'm sorry I evaded the bodyguards the way I did. I'm so stupid, Massimo. I wasn't thinking. I just didn't want to lose myself to you completely. I wanted to keep a part of me for myself. I wanted to hold onto something that would help me stay focused on my career. It means a lot to me to be an actress, know what I mean?"

"I know, baby, and you will, I promise." His voice softens, and oh, god, hearing him call me baby, my heart seems to melt into mush. My arms and legs tremble. I've been so, so stupid. Such an idiot. I only have myself to blame for landing in this situation.

"I'm so sorry for running from you. So sorry for eluding my security detail. I wasn't thinking clearly; I felt so overwhelmed. I needed space to figure everything out, you know?"

"You'll be fine Via, I promise."

The men reach the car door. One of them points a gun at me.

"They're going to shoot me, Massimo," I cry out.

"No, they won't. You're more valuable to them alive. You stay calm, and don't try anything stupid. I'm going to find you, you hear me?"

One of the men points to my door with his gun and indicates I should open it.

"I… I love you, Massimo." I unlock the door and the man pulls it open.

He raises the butt of his gun.

"No!" I scream, as he brings it down toward me.