Page 23 of Marco

I smirk and then tighten my hold on her, as if I can protect her through sheer force of will. But in my gut, I know a storm is coming. And when it hits, it will descend upon us with a vengeance.

Alessia

The tension in the house is palpable for days. Marco barely sleeps, constantly on alert and barking orders at his men. I try to avoid his brooding silences, sensing his preoccupation.

One morning, I venture into the gardens for some fresh air. The bodyguards stationed around the perimeter make me uneasy, a reminder of the threat looming over us.

A sharp crack in the bushes has me whirling around. But it's only a stray cat prowling around. I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling foolish.

Another snap behind me. I freeze in my tracks, heart pounding. Slowly, I turn to find a man emerging from the foliage, gun pointed directly at me.

"Well, hello there, sweetheart," he says with a twisted grin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"

I gasp, stumbling back. The man continues advancing, eyes glinting with menace. "The boss man's new plaything, hmm? This should be fun. Alessia, I believe?" He ogles me, his eyes trailing over my body.

I shiver under the weight of his gaze, the sound of my name on his lips, and the gun he points directly at me as he advances on me.

He reaches out to grab my arm, and I scream. Shots ring out before I can draw breath, and the man collapses with a cry.

Marco storms into view, chest heaving with rage as he fires again at the lifeless body. He kicks the gun away, then pulls me into his arms. I cling to him, shaking uncontrollably.

Marco's hands roam over me, checking for injuries with frantic urgency. "Are you hurt? Did he touch you?" His eyes blaze, and I know if the man were still alive, Marco would tear him limb from limb.

"I'm fine," I gasp out. "Just scared."

Marco crushes me against him, one hand on the back of my head. "I'm sorry, tesoro," he says, voice rough with emotion. "I never should have let my guard down."

Over his shoulder, I glimpse the dead man's face, now frozen in a mask of terror. Bile rises in my throat at the sight, a gruesome reminder of the world I now inhabit. A world where a quiet morning in the garden can descend into violence at any moment. I'd like to say it's the first dead body I've ever seen in real life, but living in the city makes that something you unfortunately can't avoid. That said, I've never seen the body of someone who's tried to kill me…or kissed the person who killed them in cold blood. That's a new one.

Marco is right—he can never let his guard down. And as long as I'm by his side, apparently neither can I. I shiver at the thought of what might have happened if Marco hadn't proposed this arrangement. I would have been alone at the café, which is obviously a mob target, owing a mafia debt I knew nothing about. Endangering everybody I ever cared about because of a family legacy I never knew I was part of.

Marco pulls back to study my face, brow furrowed in concern. "Are you sure you're alright?"

I swallow and nod. "Yes. I'm fine now."

His gaze darkens. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Do you understand? Anyone who threatens you will suffer the consequences."

A shiver runs down my spine at the implacable tone in his voice. I know he means every word—for my sake, Marco would unleash hell on earth.

"I know," I whisper.

Marco's expression softens. "Good. Now, let's get you inside."

He steers me toward the house, one arm wrapped securely around my waist. I lean into him, drawing strength from his solid presence.

The chaos of the shootout still echoes in my mind, replaying on a loop like a macabre film reel. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the images, but it's no use. Each step brings a new wave of trembling, and by the time we reach the front door, I'm shaking apart.

Marco scoops me into his arms without a word and carries me upstairs to my room. Placing me gently on my the ground, he walks me backwards until my back hits the wall, pressing his body flush against mine. I can feel his arousal through the layers of clothing, hard and insistent against my hip.

He leads me over to my bed where he sits on the edge, settling me in his lap and wrapping his arms around me. I cling to him, craving the warmth and steadiness of his body. He holds me close, stroking my hair and murmuring soft words of comfort.

Gradually, the trembling subsides, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. I sag against Marco with a sigh, suddenly feeling wrung out and hollow.

"There now, it's alright," he soothes. "You're safe."

Safe. The word elicits a pang of sorrow and bitterness. Nowhere is truly safe, not in this world we inhabit. Danger lurks around every corner, violence always waiting to erupt at a moment's notice.

Marco kisses the top of my head, his embrace tightening. "Don't be afraid, Alessia," he says, as if reading my thoughts. "I told you I would keep you safe, and I always keep my promises."

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