Page 42 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

Fabio is beside me and I am waving him off. He has witnessed too many embarrassing moments for one day

“Here,” he stretches his handkerchief to me and a bottle of water that must have been inside the car. I scramble to take them without lifting my face.

I wash my mouth with the water, instantly needing to brush my teeth, but it will do for now. I dab quickly as I see Fabio in the corner of my eyes, already strutting into the main building.

I scurry after him, wanting to be a part of whatever is going on, if he will let me. I messed up. I don’t know if my presence will make any of it better but I want in.

I march after him, barely able to keep up with his pace as he darts through the door, takes heavy stomping steps up the stairs, and disappears into my father’s study.

I go after him, slipping through the door before he slams it.

I go to stand beside my father, who is by the window.

My dad turns, and I can tell by the look on his face that this is not good. I can tell there's more fire on the mountain than I had thought since he's also sporting his trademark black-on-black outfit, a cigar between his fingers, and a lighter that he seems to be flicking open and closed.

“What does he want?” Fabio steps forward.

“Eva,” my father shrugs a little too carelessly.

“I know I shouldn’t…” I begin another round of apologies.

But my father clips his tongue. “Salvatore wants you, he wants to marry you to one of Nina’s cousins to seal his rule in the Bratva.”

“He wants to do what?” Surprisingly Fabio and I spurt it out in sync. But our faces and tones are nothing alike.

While I sound and look every bit as confused as can be, he sounds and looks every bit as angry as can be. I am sure, if and when he sets his eyes on Salvatore, bones will be crushed. But for now, we are helpless.

My father reaches into his pocket and pulls out his gold cigar case. He opens the case, brings out a cigar, and passes it on to Fabio, who lights it while plopping down the sofa. It’s the first time I have seen him smoke in six years.

The slithering urge to go to him and comfort him possess me, but I can’t.

This is my fault. I have to fix this.

Fabio might be getting his wish for us after all.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FABIO

What the fuck does Salvatore mean by wanting to marry Eva to one of Nina’s depraved cousins?

That family is dysfunctional. It is why Salvatore fits in it so fucking well.

He is a dysfunctional dimwit. A disgrace as a son and a brother. While Eva may seem to be carrying it well, I have caught her a few times staring at the door of his quarter with longing eyes.

I have heard her make mistakes, calling people Salvatore. She loves him and cares about him, but the idiot is seeking any opportunity to hurt her in every way possible.

Fuck it.

Now he has my son as bait. All thanks to Eva, but I am passed caring about the fact that she told the secret of my son to Gloria. I am still trying to figure out who could have possibly been the culprit because as much as I don’t care about Gloria, I know she is not the one.

I already did a few checks on her when she started hanging around Eva.

I dart my eyes between Emanuele and Eva. They are strikingly alike, yet so different in many obvious ways.

I light up the cigar Emanuele offered me. He is not one to share his lighter or his cigars, and it’s the second time he has done so with me. The first was the night I killed my father. I was a wreck. I was scared but also satisfied. He told me the cigar would help, but what really helped was his presence.

He never judged me. He looked like he was capable of the same evil, and I didn’t need to ask to confirm it. I could see it in his eyes. He had been made capo a few weeks before that day.

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