Page 106 of Ruthless Guardian

“There’s still the matter of you having lied to me for all this time.”

“I was young and stupid back then. I was destroyed by Laura’s death. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t imagine my life without her and our child. I didn’t want to start World War III on top of that.” I draw in a breath, inhaling deeply to work past the pain. “And he was my father, Enrico. It took me years to come to terms with what he’d done. But by then, it was too late. I couldn’t come back here…”

“And then you mether, the Valentino princess.”

“And he came for her,” I growl. “You know the saying, ‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me’. I’ll give you a week to kill him, if not, he’s mine.” Narrowing my eyes, I stare up at the man who used to terrify me with nothing but pure conviction. “It’s a win-win for you, really.”

CHAPTER 52

HE WILL FIND ME

Isabella

My eyes snap open, and I jolt up from the stone floor, my heart racing. A dim lantern hangs from the far wall, barely illuminating the dark, empty space. I suck in a breath and attempt to still the mad pounding for fear someone will hear it and come for me. A familiar earthy scent clings to the room, invading my nostrils. The air is cool and musty, heavy with the scent of damp earth and the faint, lingering aroma of… aged wine.

A wine cellar.

We have one in the basement of our summer home in Montauk. Dim light filters through cracks in the cellar door, casting long, slanting beams across the cobwebbed darkness. I glance around the chamber and as my eyes become used to the poor lighting, I can just make out rows of empty wooden racks that stretch like skeletal fingers along the walls. Pushing myself up, a sharp ache swings my attention to the golf-ball-sized knot on the back of my head. Thatbastardo. I gingerly finger thesensitive area, then curse Professor Massimo and his damned pretty green eyes and chic glasses. What the actual hell? And who was that thug that jumped out of the trunk?

No way my professor is the mastermind behind this kidnapping.

Now, where am I?

I scan the room for my purse, which has my phone, but of course there’s nothing. A hint of panic starts to roll in, but I shove it down, determined not to let it control me. Just breathe, Bella. You’ve been in worse situations than this, right? A live shootout would definitely be worse, and I’ve been in three in the past few months.

This I can handle. I have time to think. I just have to puzzle this out, be observant like Raf has attempted to drill into me all these months.

Raf… Oh,Dio, he’s going to lose his shit when he finds out I’ve been taken. And then he’s going to kill me once he finds me.

And I have every confidence that hewillfind me.

Walking around the large, musty chamber, I search for something, anything I can use as a weapon. Immense wooden casks lie on their sides in the far corner, swollen shut by years of neglect. Those wine barrels are a bit too unwieldy, but I don’t disregard them completely yet.

I walk toward the massive double doors carved out of an ancient wood with iron hinges securing it to the roughhewn stone walls. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen for a sound, anything.

I waffle for a minute, debating between screaming my lungs out and pretending to still be unconscious. Maybe I should just wait it out. If I stand behind the door, then I can in theory get the drop on my kidnapper.

Yes. That’s what I’ll do.

Now I only need a weapon. I pass by an antique mirror, spiderwebs covering the patinaed glass and catch a glimpse of the flower still tucked into my ponytail. The oleander. A smile slides across my face as I eye the poisonous bloom through the mirror. “Thanks, Raf,” I whisper. “Even when you’re not with me, you’re always looking out.”

Careful not to touch the toxic petals, I pluck it from my hair, touching only the foil-covered stem, then slip it into my back pocket for easy access. I pace the length of the old wine cellar for a few more minutes before I begin to lose patience, and the anxiety starts to take hold once again.

I dart toward the door, unable to control myself. “Let me out!” I shout, banging my fist against the old timber. “Massimo! You can’t keep me in here!” I stop and wait, listening again with my hand hovering just over the oleander blossom.

Nothing.

So I start to pound again.

“Get me out of here, youpezzo di merda!” I spit out a colorful mix of Italian and English curses that would have my mom cringing and my brother Vinny thoroughly impressed. The warm and fuzzy thoughts of my family have that panic rising again, but I shove it down hard. Iwillsee them all again soon.Don’t even go there, Bella.

The slap of approaching footfalls sends my heart catapulting up my ribcage. I dart behind the door and cautiously grip the oleander between my thumb and forefinger, careful not to let the petals graze my skin. My heartbeat escalates with each step closer, my pulse hammering in my ears like a relentless drum.

The door opens a crack, and I hold my breath, pressing my back against the rough slabs of stone.

“Isabella?” Massimo’s voice only twists the fear into anger. I’d trusted that asshole, given Raf so much shit for his paranoia and my professor betrayed me! He pushes the door open all theway, and I lunge around the thick timber, then shove the lethal pink blossom right into his face.

He gasps, and I manage to get some of it inside his mouth. His eyes widen as I keep my hand clapped over his face until he begins to struggle against me. Thanks to Raf’s tireless efforts and years of Krav Maga, I hold my own for a few seconds, keeping the toxic flower crushed against his face, before he overpowers me, and I stumble back.

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