Page 98 of Ruthless Guardian

If I’m being honest, just being with her these past few weeks in Rome has healed wounds I thought were permanent.Dio, I love her. I should just tell her…

We’ve been putting off the inevitable for long enough. I would have to step down as her bodyguard and have Luca send a replacement. He’ll be pissed off as all hell, but maybe, I can make him understand.

“Ready?” Isa spins toward the door, her hand closing on the handle before I can pry the words out.

It’s probably for the better anyway. After that grisly tale, maybe now wasn’t the best time to confess how much I loved her. I finally nod and slide out of the car so I can open her door on the other side.

Offering my hand to help her out, her fingers easily intertwine with mine when we hit the sidewalk. I know I’ll have to release her soon enough, but I want to savor every moment. The ominous tolling of the church bell echoes as we walk up the steps of the old cathedral, mimicking the mounting dread in my gut.

Before we reach the grand double doors inlaid with gold and engravings of the saints, Isabella stops, her eyes whirling to mine. “You never told me who you think is behind the shooting,” she whispers. “Is it your father or Laura’s?”

My brows draw together as I regard her for an endless moment. “Enrico Sartori?” It hadn’t even crossed my mind that he could be behind this.

She nods, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

Why would—? The words fall away as realization slaps me in the face. “Because it was my fault his daughter died.”

CHAPTER 48

THE L WORD

Isabella

Grief constricts my ribcage, the pain of loss so potent it coats my tongue and cramps my belly as I walk across the verdant lawn of the cemetery. I didn’t even know Carlo well and still, his death weighs on me for more than just guilt. In the world I’ve grown up in, loss of life is a constant and one can so easily become immune to it. I can’t even count how many guards we’ve lost over the years, not to mention Frankie, who’s death I still can’t quite process because it’s easier to live in denial.

Carlo was young, not even twenty-eight with a whole life ahead of him. He had parents who loved him, a sister who cherished him, cousins, grandparents, a whole slew of people whose lives were just irreparably changed. In one fraction of a second.

Dio, how is it fair?

I glance over at Raf who walks beside me, a grim expression wearing into his handsome face as we cross the now empty graveyard. He hasn’t spoken more than a few terse words sincehis confession in the car. His sadness weighs on me, too. Dozens of colorful flowers mark the gravestones, too bright for the somber occasion. It was a lovely ceremony, filled with inspirational speeches and reassuring words, but in the end, Carlo was still dead.

Just like Raf’s first love.

People would continue to die, and the world would keep churning, butmerda, it’s so depressing. Beneath the guilt, there’s the knowledge that life is fleeting, and we should take advantage of every moment. Before it’s too late.

“Raf, I—” I blurt as he spins toward me and says, “Isabella?—”

“Sorry, go ahead.” He stops in the middle of the empty cemetery, and it occurs to me this is probably the most morbid place in the world to say the three words that have been racing across the tip of my tongue.

So instead, I shake my head and mutter a lame, “No, you go first.”

Raf takes my hand and leads me toward the shade of a classic stone pine, its distinctive umbrella-shaped canopy the perfect spot to escape the mid-day sun. His dark eyes chase to mine, and a tide of unfettered emotion sweeps through that brooding gaze. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but we have to find you a new bodyguard.”

I open my mouth to tell him just what I think about that, but he presses his finger to my lips.

“No arguing.” He heaves out a pained breath, and I still my tongue to at least hear him out. His hands clamp around my shoulders, intense eyes dipping to trap mine in that haunted gaze. “Do you want to be with me? For real,principessa? Not this sneaking around, but really be mine?”

The rough edge to his tone has my insides quaking and my heart slingshotting itself against my ribs. I don’t trust myself to speak so I simply nod instead.

“As if continuing this thing between us as your bodyguard isn’t risky enough, now we have the problem of the shooter to contend with.” He sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve had no solid leads in a week, other than the name of the Albanian mercenary who hired him, and that guy has conveniently disappeared. I have your father’s men ransacking the city for him, but it’s possible he’s left the city or worse, the country. Until we know for certain who is after me, I cannot risk your life by remaining beside you.”

“So you’re just going to abandon me?”

“No, of course not.” His fingers tighten around my shoulders as he draws me closer. “But don’t you see that I’m putting you directly in harm’s way by being with you?”

“I’m always in harm’s way, youcoglione. I have been since the day I was born.”

He bites his lip, a flicker of anger darkening his countenance as he holds onto me as if his life depends on it. “I won’t be responsible for putting your life at risk, Isabella. Can’t you understand that?” His grip is punishing as he reels me in so I’m flush against him. “I cannot bear it. I will not lose the first woman I’ve loved in a decade—” His jaw slams shut, the crack reverberating through the sudden silence.

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