Page 19 of She Found Me

“So, what do you think his endgame is?” Annoyance fills his face as he swirls the ice around his glass of whiskey.

“It could be several things. But what he will want is power and control. Which you have. We need to keep our eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. What is currently going on could all still be a distraction. Something to take your attention off what is really happening. But then again, he could just be that stupid and thought he could legally take down the Guerra.”

“Maybe, but my gut is telling me otherwise.” After downing the last of his drink, he presses the buzzer for the waiter.

He comes in immediately with a fresh round of drinks.

“You need to be careful, Marco. You need extra protection. Get more guards for yourself.”

“I can protect myself, and I have Van.”

Rolling my eyes, I pick up my fresh glass of wine. It’s cold, crisp, and fruity, and it’s going to my head. “Please, Marco. Just until this with Lorenzo is over.”

“I’ll speak to Van.” He dismisses that conversation and changes the subject to my animals.

While we eat our dinner, I update Marco on the dogs’ latest antics and my future plans for the sanctuary. It’s strange how comfortable and easy it is to speak to Marco. I have known Marco all my life, but we’ve spoken more in these past couple of hours than we have in our lifetime. Funny how you can know someone all this time but never really know them at all. He’s actually got a good sense of humour.

While Marco settles the bill, I visit the ladies’ room. Sitting and doing my business, I think about my evening with Marco. Something has changed between us. It’s hard to believe the man I have just had dinner with is the same man I have seen disembowel men with his bare hands.

I’m just finishing up when I hear the door open and the quiet sobs of a woman. As I’m unlocking the door, a man enters the bathroom.

“Sarah!” he shouts, along with a lot of obscenities.

Deciding I don’t want to walk out into the middle of a domestic, I hang back for a moment, hoping they will take their argument outside. But listening to the man criticise and verbally attack this woman who just continues to break her heart has me furious.

As I open the door of my cubical, the man has his fist raised about to hit the woman. Obviously used to this kind of attack, the woman covers her face with her hands. Bolting out, I grab the man’s fist before it makes contact. Twisting the man’s arm around his back, I kick the inside of his knee so he buckles to the floor. The weasel of a man cries out in pain.

Still holding his arm to the brink of dislocation, I pull his hair with my other hand, bringing his ear to my mouth. “Don’t you ever hurt a woman.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spits.

Dragging him up by his hair and arm, I smash his nose into the sink before lifting his head to look at me through the mirror. “My name is Mia Alboni, and I am your worst nightmare.”

I let him drop to the floor, then stand on his balls with my stilettos. His scream can no doubt be heard for miles.

In the mirror, I see Marco in the doorway, leaning against door frame. He’s got his arms folded and a very satisfied smile on his face.

“I came to see if you needed a hand, but I see you have everything under control.” There’s amusement in his voice. “Come on, I better get you home before you cause any more trouble.”

As I leave with Marco, I hear the man mutter under his breath. “Bitch.”

Marco obviously hears him, too, as he spins straight around to re-enter the bathroom. He picks him up by his neck and slams his face into the mirror. Holding it into the broken glass, he calmly explains, “Nobody insults a Guerra, and nobody insults my woman.”

The sink breaks with the force of the man's head. If he would have just kept his mouth shut and let us leave, he would still be alive. But Marco cannot let the Guerra be disrespected, no matter how small the insult.

Once Marco has ordered the cleanup, we get back in the Ferrari. I feel instantly excited as soon as my body sinks into the seat, the roar of the engine vibrating through my core. Marco wears a proud expression as he puts his foot down, setting off on our way. Once again, the G-force pushes me further into my seat. I put my hand on Marco’s large thigh, gently squeezing in anticipation. Sexual tension builds between us. He again accelerates.

We are on a long stretch of tree-lined road, and it’s late, so there are no other cars on it. The odd streetlamp and moonlight give just enough light to see the curves ahead.

“I love this car,” I admit.

“I love you in this car,” he replies as he slams on the brakes, almost giving me whiplash.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he pulls off to the side of the road.

“I can’t wait any longer.”

Dragging my head towards him, he slams his lips against mine. He’s desperate for me, and me for him.

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