Page 76 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 3

“That’s them now. Probably wanting to update me on her release,” he stated calmly before he answered.

“Mr. Castellanos, I was expecting your call,” Gio stated. “Yes, we did hear that Bianca was released on bail,” he said and then frowned deeply. “What do you mean she’s on the run?”

I stepped out of Gio’s arms and covered the gasp trying to leave my mouth.

“You’re kidding? How was she able to board a plane? I thought a person wasn’t allowed to leave the state if they were under criminal investigation.”

Gio’s shoulders slumped as he leaned the bulk of his weight against the counter. His head dropped forward in what could only be seen as frustration. “They didn’t see her as a flight risk, meaning she still had her passport? Fantastic,” he said dryly. “Do we even know where she went?”

His head snapped up as I held my breath, waiting for every little morsel of new information. “France?”

“France?” I mouthed. “Why France?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. She never once mentioned France other than possibly going there for our honeymoon.”

I made a juvenile gagging noise and stuck out my tongue at the mere suggestion of Gio and Bianca honeymooning.

Gio pressed his lips together in a broken smile and whispered, “Behave.”

He listened for a bit longer. “So, what’s the plan?” His eyebrows rose toward his hairline in an expression of surprise. “A private jet? Whose?” He hissed. “I have no idea who she might know with deep enough pockets to secure a private jet at a moment’s notice. None of this makes any sense.”

I watched helplessly as he rubbed at his temples, clearly upset with the information being given. “You have men waiting at the airport already?” Suddenly, a smile flitted across his face, and I sighed with relief. “That’s good news. Okay, keep me posted on where she goes once she lands. Bruno, thank you so much for taking this job. Joel said you were the best, and clearly you have already proven that,” Gio offered. “I’ll keep the phone on me. Thank you.”

He hung up and let out a long breath of air.

“What? Tell me everything! She’s gone to France?” I rattled off, dying to know what he found out.

“According to Bruno and his team, right after Bianca was released, she was picked up by a blacked-out SUV. They followed her to LaGuardia airport where she was taken to a private section that bypassed the normal departure, security, and gate checks. She was immediately whisked away on a private jet to France.”

“And we don’t know whose jet it was?”

He shook his head. “No, though he does have men on the ground in France ready to follow her when she arrives, but that will be roughly seven or so hours from now.”

“All of this means she left without my brother. Do you really think she’s on the run?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is that Bruno Castellanos is on top of it.”

“Bruno?” I tried to place the name and came up empty.

“Joel’s cousin. Apparently, he runs all of the security for Joel and his family and was an integral part of Faith and the girls coming out of their trauma being healthy, happy, and most importantly, alive. While the man that kidnapped her did not fare so well.”

“Yikes.” I nibbled on my bottom lip and looked down at all the broken glass and beer spilled everywhere. “I need to clean this up,” I sighed.

When I turned to get the broom, Gio grabbed me by the elbow, spun me around, and plastered me to his front once more.

“What you need to do is understand that I’ve got everything under control. Bianca is not going to be able to hurt us ever again.”

Unless she’s carrying his baby, I thought but didn’t vocalize.

“But I don’t understand, Gio. She got out on bail when she shouldn’t have. She’s now mid-air, on her way to France. A different fucking country on another fucking continent. None of this is under control!” My voice rose along with my ire. “I am so tired of you—ofus—getting the short end of the stick. This bitch is evil, and she deserves to go down!” I pointed to the ground and stomped my foot.

“You need to calm down,” he said in a low, commanding tone.

“Excuse me?” I clipped and tilted my head. “Don’t you ever tell me tocalm down,” I growled.

Gio pursed his lips then methodically removed his jacket, laying it over the back of a barstool. He then removed his cufflinks, setting them on the counter. Next, he undid thebuttons at his wrists and rolled them up his muscular, tanned forearms.

My breathing became labored as anger flushed my face and desire coiled low in my pelvis. I shifted from foot to foot, watching his every movement closely.

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