Page 6 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

“Chill, Eva. It’s an invitation. I made sure Boris never made any attempt on you when he was alive and that should mean something,” he strides back to the stool and sits.

Boris, the manwho waged war againstmy father and sent his daughter Nina to woo, with triumphant success,my brother into joining their side. All of which came to an end when Salvatore messed with Vittoria, his arranged fiancée. Now my father’s wife, our stepmom.

“Thank you,” I reach for the envelope. If it is thanks he needs, I will give them. Anything to make him deliver his message and leave.

“You are welcome. Now, open it.” I pick up the cream and brown envelope and open it, only stopping briefly to admire its maze-like design. “I don’t have all day,” he bites out his irritation and I hurry to pull out a card from inside it.

I adjust my glasses and read it.

He is getting married?

My head shoots up, and he gives a mocking bow, “You are invited,” he stands, “Now, I would love for you to be there without being forced. You know, show up happy and support your big brother as you should.”

If I am getting him correctly, I will be there either of my own or through coercion.

“I don’t…”

“You don’t have a choice, kiddo, in case what I said earlier wasn’t clear enough,” he strides to the window that he came in through. “It’s my wedding and you are the only family member I find less irritating and want to see there.”

“I see,” I whisper to myself.

“Until we meet again. You can reach me and Nina through that phone. It’s a burner and it has our numbers saved on it. I know you miss me, big brother to the rescue,” he has lost his mind. “And Eva, you are young and beautiful, for fuck’s sake, leave that old dude the hell alone, focus on…” he darts his dark eyes around my studio and then shakes his head, “Just focus on something,” he makes an expression of irritation. He climbs onto the window and I am not foolish enough to scream because I know he means business with that gun.

I watch him as he sits at the window, and a part of me wants to reach out to the brother I never really had. The brother I could have had. I cannot say when or how it went bad, but it did and it never got better again.

“I know you are itching to go tell Father, so,” he jumps to the other side and pokes his head, “go ahead then,” he flicks his gun at me and then disappears.

I don’t even let his exit cool off, I push off my seat and scurry with staggering heartbeats outside my studio, heading for papa’s office.

I walk to the main building, clutching the burner phone and invitation to my chest, my heartbeat ricocheting in my ears, my vision hazy from tears mounding because of the panic jamming in my stomach.

“Eva,” my father’s strong arm catches me by the waist and plasters my quivering body to his, his buff frame enclosing me, “Hey, love,” he clamps his arms around me, and the longer I inhale his familiar, comforting scent, and see his wave of gray hair and beard, the more my heartbeat slows down.

He and Fabio are standing a little distance from the main door, but I hadn't noticed them.

“He came,” I gulp more air and untangle gently from his embrace, “Salvatore.” I stretch the burner phone and invitation to him. The sound of Salvatore’s name makes him slit his onyx eyes, a shadow of guilt and pain masking his expression like the dark button-up shirt and slacks he is wearing. He reads the invitation and puts the phone into his pocket.

“Where is he?” Fabio asks, his demeanor changing to menacing and his eyes darting like that of a predator.

“He left through the window of my studio,” I point at nothing over my shoulder. “He is getting…” I point at the invitation, but my father is already on it.

“It’s okay,” he grinds, hugging me. “I will take it from here. You are safe, love,” he says, giving me a reassuring peck in my hair. “Fabio will be your bodyguard until I put a stop to this.”

I want to protest that the last person I want following me around is Fabio, but I bite my tongue. While this will be hard on me, I can sense from the change of his energy after my father’s declaration that this will be much harder on him.

Good.

CHAPTER THREE

EVA

It’s been roughly six minutes since we drove out of the estate and Fabio has been hellbent on keeping quiet. But I want to talk. I want to talk to him.

It’s impossible not to talk when he is around me.

I sulk, chewing my tongue as if that would prevent me from uttering a word.

But I eventually give in. “I am doing good, my weekend was spectacular, and after seeing Salvatore, I slept like a baby, no need to worry about a gun being pointed at me by my own brother,” I chuckle. Then, after more silence, I add, “I love the idea of my father roping you with me, having a grump attached to you everywhere you go is a great way to live life,” I huff and dart my eyes out the window.

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