Page 113 of Dangerous Intent

“Did they have to cuff him? Point a gun at him?” I raised my voice, earning me a few suspicious glances from the detectives.

“Marchello has a reputation. Let this situation work itself out.”

I set the bottle of prosecco I had been holding on an empty table next to me and tried to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of me.

One of the detectives removed Marchello’s gun from the back of his pants.

“You’re carrying a concealed weapon?” he asked.

“That’s not illegal in Florida,” I said.

“Lissia, please.” Marchello shot me a glare and stood as still as a statue as a detective continued to frisk him.

I wanted to stand next to him so he knew I was with him, but Dom was so close to me that he would surely grab me if I tried to move.

This wasn’t like before, when my father’s decisions controlled my life. Now I had Marchello, and he trusted me to be more. But watching him stand there like a criminal, I felt the old helplessness creeping back, threatening to undo everything I’d worked to become.

The buzzing commotion in the background caught my attention. People whispered and stared, probably making false assumptions about my husband. Lorenzo had his staff clear the lounge of on-lookers before joining us.

“What is happening?” he whispered to me.

“I don’t know.” I motioned toward Marchello, who was staring straight ahead and not answering any questions even though the detectives kept asking. “They’re arresting him.”

One of the detective’s badges glinted in the dim light, a sharp contrast to the scuffed leather of his holster. His fingers lingered near the gun, like he expected trouble.

My stomach knotted as I stepped forward, every nerve screaming at me to protect Marchello, even if it meant putting myself in harm’s way.

“What are the charges?” Lucas asked.

“Assault,” one answered. “Your client has quite the temper.”

“Diego,” Lorenzo mumbled.

“What?” I asked. Marchello’s bruised knuckles were on display for everyone to see. That was what this was about? Assaulting Diego wasn’t Marchello’s fault. “Diego threatened me, that’s why?—”

“Lissia,” Dom snapped. “Follow Marchello’s lead and stay quiet.”

“We’re taking your client to the station,” a detective said to Lucas. “We’ll sort it out there.”

“No!” I stepped forward. “You can’t do that.”

“Who are you?” the detective asked.

“His wife.” I pointed at the man in the shitty suit who was about to haul my husband out of here. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He was?—”

“Lissia,” Marchello said, his voice raised. “I don’t need your help. Dom, get her out of here.”

“I’d love to hear what Mrs. Accetti has to offer. It might make things go quicker if she would like to give a statement.” The detective motioned behind him. “We could go out to the lobby and you could answer a few questions.”

“No!” Marchello's jaw tightened. “Lissia, go back to the villa.”

“Chello,” Lucas said. “I will handle this.”

“Mrs. Accetti.” The detective blocked me from Marchello. “If you need our assistance, now would be the time to ask for it.”

“Assistance for what?” I asked. “I’m not in any danger, but you will be if you don’t stop harassing my husband.”

“Was that a threat?” he asked. “Because we can take you to the station too.”

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