Page 108 of Ruthless Guardian

Raffaele

“You’re saving an innocent girl’s life, Enrico.” Unfamiliar emotion constricts my throat, the words coming out garbled and hardly intelligible as I shake the old man’s hand.

He must notice it because he whacks me on the shoulder almost tenderly as he escorts me to the door. “Don’t make me regret this decision, Raffa.”

The sun is already high in the sky, the warm rays seeping into my skin. So much for being back at the apartment before Isabella notices I’m gone. My cheek is throbbing, and I can barely see out of one eye, but I’m alive. For a minute there, I didn’t think I’d be walking out of this house at all. I doubt Enrico did either. I sold out my father for my own life. After what he did to Laura, I think the deal was more than fair. “I don’t think you will regret it.” After all those years of guilt, it wasn’t until today that I finally realized it wasn’tmyfault Laura was dead; it was my father’s. And he deserved the full breadth of Enrico’s wrath.

My former future father-in-law smirks. “You’ve come a long way in ten years. Maybe love and the resulting loss has changed you.”

“It has…” I step down the stairs and his piercing gaze follows me until I’m on the other side of the wrought iron gate. I whirl around to look at him for what will hopefully be the last time. “I wish I could have saved her, Enrico, for you, for her, but mostly for me. And I promise I won’t let the same fate befall upon Isabella.” I pause, deliberating on my next words. “I consider you an ally now, and I hope you do as well. But I know how this dark world works, and if that should ever change, and you come forher, I won’t think twice about blowing your head off, past be damned.”

A dark chuckle spreads his thin lips as he continues to regard me from the top step of his elaborate villa. “Laura would have been proud of the man you’ve become, Raffa.”

A jab of pain lances through my chest at those words. I failed her so badly, but I resolve never to make that mistake again. My fingers are itching for my phone. I’d turned it on silent before I arrived, and I can’t wait to check on Isa. “Grazie,” I mutter before turning toward the Vespa.

I slide the phone out of my pocket and cringe at the string of text messages from Isabella. Especially the last one which says she’s going to coffee with that damned professor. If he so much as lays a hand on her…

My fingers jab at the screen as I punch out a reply.

Me: I’m gone for a few hours and you’re already with him?

I try to keep the tone light, but my insides are twisting at the thought. Where did he take her? How close did they sit? Did she go out with him just to piss me off?

I’ve been acting like a fucking idiot ever since the gun fight at the cemetery when I accidentally let the L word slip. It simply wasn’t the right time, and I want everything to be perfect withmyprincipessa. I feel so damned guilty. She’s become a target because of me. How can I say I love you in the same breath as I’m the reason you’re in danger?

I glance down at my screen, and still, there’s no response. She can’t be mad for leaving before she woke, could she?

Me: You better not still be having that coffee…

Nothing.

Me: Isabella, answer me.

Me: I’m worried now.

I reach the Vespa and a mix of fury laced with inexplicable foreboding tighten my chest. “Fuck the messages,” I grumble before I jab my finger at the call button, Isabella’s bright smile filling my screen.

It rings and rings before finally going to voicemail.

She better not be ignoring me. That pit of dread blossoms, my pulse quickening as I scan my call list for Alberto. Stabbing the call button, I hold my breath for the familiar ringtone, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I growl.

With anxiety now eating away at my insides, I search my contacts for Aldo’s number. He’s supposed to be in charge in my absence. My heart is a thundering war drum by the time he answers.

“What’s up, Ferrara?”

“Do you have eyes on Isabella?” I bark.

“No, she left with Alberto and her professor about an hour ago for coffee.”

“And no one else went with them?”

“They were just going right around the block.” His footsteps echo across the sidewalk, and I can just make out the rumble of an engine in the distance. Thebastardomust have been outside taking a smoking break.

“Alberto’s not answering his phone. Neither is Isabella,” I snarl.

“I’ll run over to the café and check on them.”

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