Page 1 of Desperate Decisions

CHAPTER 1

AMARA

“Go to Italy, Amara,” I muttered from my hiding spot behind a fishing crate. “It’ll be fun, Amara. The mafia there won’t care who you are. You’ll just be a college kid among thousands.”

Fucking idiots.

I didn’t know how they found me, or why they thought I would be able to get money out of my father for them. I hadn’t talked to him for two years specifically because of bullshit like this. If I had known he’d borrowed a hundred grand from the Neapolitan mob, I never would have allowed my friend group to make Naples a stop. But he hadn’t told me and I hadn’t told him I was going. And now I was hiding behind a fucking fish crate.

Three men had been following me for the last twenty minutes, and I’d been too daft to realize I was being herded toward the docks. One of them must have figured out who I was because when I was minding my own business at the Museo Cappella Sansevero, there’d suddenly been a hand over my mouth and heavily accented threats against my father for running out on his debt. How they knew who I was out of everyone there was beyond me, but the mob networks ran deep.

They obviously hadn’t expected me to know how to fight, but my elbow to his gut sure let him know quickly. I’d managed to bolt, at least initially. I crawled on hands and knees around one of the little trucks, and when the way appeared clear, I took off at a run. A sleek Ducati was waiting behind a crosswalk and I tossed myself straight onto the back of it.

“What the fuck? Get the hell off.”

“Please just go. I’ll explain later.” I wrapped my arms around the driver and tucked my head down, hoping the people following me hadn’t seen. “Please!”

“Fucking hell.”

The bike roared to life and whipped around the roundabout to head into the city.

I clung to the driver like my life depended on it. With any luck, this guy would be a good driver because I had no protective equipment at all and I had about as much interest in being a smear on the road as I did in letting the mob catch me.

After what felt like an eternity, the bike turned into a skinny alleyway and came to a stop. I held my breath as the driver pulled his helmet off. He looked exactly like I had expected, with dark hair and eyes, sunkissed skin, and a frown on perfectly kissable lips.

“Are you going to explain why the fuck you got on my bike?”

“I ran into a little trouble. You seemed like a better option.”

He barked a laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

All my little hairs stood up. “Unless you’re planning on kidnapping and extortion, then I’d say you are.”

The man snorted. “Lucky for you I don’t have time for a kidnapping right now. Get off.”

“You can’t just leave me here. I don’t know where the hell we are.”

“Should’ve thought of that before hopping on a stranger’s bike. Off.”

“Please. I just need a little help. I’ll do anything you want if you just take me to my hostel and then to the airport.”

His gaze was sharp, calculating. “You’re lucky you’re pretty. Where’s the hostel?”

“Next to the Castel Nuovo.”

He nodded decisively and pulled his helmet on again, revving the bike so that I clung back on to him. I would message my friends from the airport and let them know I had gone back home. I wasn’t going to risk staying in Italy if the mob had my number.

At the hostel I ran in like a bat out of hell, stuffed the essentials into my backpack, and bolted right back to the bike, relieved that he was still waiting.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I owe you so fucking much. Airport? I need to get on a flight to Rome to head back to the states.”

“It would be just as fast for me to drive you to Rome. Besides, you’ve already missed the morning flight, so you’d be waiting awhile.”

“You’d be willing to drive me all the way to Rome?”

“If you’re willing to show me how grateful you are when we get there.”

I chewed my lip. I would be a sitting duck at the airport in Naples if I couldn’t get out in time, and I had definitely fucked uglier men for less. “Okay. Deal.”

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