Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Mr. Russo!”
I tug Christian’s arm when I hear his name being called out by one of the clerks at the front desk. He turns to them, eyebrows raised.
“We have a message here for you, sir.”
“I'll wait here,” I offer, sitting on a leather chair. It's even nice to be around people again. I've been secluded for too long.
Christian goes over to the desk. I overhear the clerk apologizing, saying they have to find the message. He waves a hand, leaning against the counter to wait. When he looks back at me, I give him a little wave.
“Signorina?” Miss?
I realize the man standing over my shoulder is talking to me. I look up, expecting one of the hotel staff, ready to get up if I'm not allowed to sit here.
He isn't wearing one of the uniforms I've seen on other staff members since our arrival. He's dressed in black, wearing a ball cap with the brim pulled low over his eyes.
And he's carrying something in one hand. There's no time to put everything together before he jams that something up against my neck. At first, I think it's a gun, and this is it. This is where I'm going to die. But he pulls it away, muttering in Italian as he turns it around in his hand like it was supposed to work but didn't.
That's when I find my voice. “Christian!”
I scramble out of the chair, but the stranger wraps a hand around my bicep before I can get away. He hauls me in close to him and then starts dragging me away.
Gasps and muffled shouts sound out all around us, but that's not what matters. What matters is Christian barreling through the crowd, red-faced and snarling. I don't know if it's fear or the fact that he's been spotted that makes the attacker let go.
He shoves me at Christian before weaving his way through the crowd, knocking an older woman to the floor in his haste to escape.
“You’re all right. You're fine.” Christian wraps his arms around me, glaring at the exit. “The son of a bitch was carrying a stun gun.”
“It didn’t work.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
“You're not going after him?” I lean into his embrace, trying to catch my breath.
“He's gone already.” He holds me almost painfully tight for a second before letting go. “That message was likely a ruse. He would have followed whoever delivered it up to the penthouse.”
“I didn't think anybody knew we were here.”
“Neither did I.” His head swings back and forth like he's waiting for another attack. “Evidently, we were both wrong.”
“We aren't going for a walk, are we?”
“I was thinking a helicopter ride might be more in line with our next steps.” Even though my heart sinks, I know he's right. At least at his father's house, there are guards. Out here, it's only the two of us.
And there simply isn't a way to prepare for every situation. If that stun gun had worked, this might’ve ended a lot differently.
“Whoever they are, they must have powerful connections.” I watch from my spot on the bed as Christian paces in front of his bedroom window, occasionally glancing outside. What does he think he's going to find there besides the guards he ordered to patrol the grounds in constant shifts? “They paid off that doctor, which I'm sure couldn't have come cheaply. They found us at the hotel. A needle in a haystack.”
“You used your last name.”
“Do you know how many hotels and resorts there are in this country?” The sharpness in his question keeps me from pursuing the topic.
“I'm scared. That's all.”
“You don't have to be scared anymore.”
“How can you say that and sound so sure of yourself?”
“Because now, we know the monster who wants you dead is desperate enough to step out into the open. I have no doubt the fool he sent to the hotel was an errand boy, but if he's desperate enough to attempt a kidnapping in broad daylight, in a crowd of people, he's bound to make another mistake.” His lips stretch in a vicious smile. “He might not know it, but he's shown his hand.”
Wow. Is that supposed to make me feel better?
“Great,” I say and draw my legs up onto the bed, wrapping my arms around them. “I'm living with a monster while another one is out there trying to kill me—along with a bunch of other people. And you thought bringing me to Italy would make me safe?”
His scowl is a reminder that certain thoughts shouldn’t be voiced in his presence. “So far, you've managed to avoid getting killed. Maybe you should remember who's responsible for that.”
My heart sinks as the truth of his words makes it through my awareness. He's always saved me, and there's not a doubt in my mind he would kill anyone who dares to try to kill me again. And they will. I don't doubt that, either. But he'll fight for me until his final breath. Whether or not I want him to, no matter how I fight him.