Page 98 of Born into Mayhem
“I will,” I promise him.
I hand him my phone, knowing it’ll be the first thing Leonardo tries to take from me, and I’d rather not lose it. He slips it into his pocket, and with what looks like monumental effort on his part, he kisses me once more and then grabs my hand as we leave the room together. Sasha is waiting in the hall, and even though I can’t see his weapons, I know he’s covered in them. He also has that excited look in his eyes that he always gets when he knows he might be close to killing someone.
“Do you have enough weapons?” he asks me in Russian.
“I’m good,” I tell him.
He walks next to me as we head downstairs where Sandro is already waiting. He grins at me and says, “You’re going to do great, Mia, and I’ll make sure Dario doesn’t barge in too soon and ruin everything.”
Dario tells him something in Italian that has him raising a brow at me. “He’s not going to let me crack jokes about this until it’s over and you’re safe.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” I look up at Dario’s tense jaw and add, “He might not even let you then.”
Sandro grins. “True enough. He’s very protective of you. Did you like your present in the garage?”
“I’d rather have the Ducati,” I say, making him laugh.
Sandro reaches out and pats my shoulder. “One step at a time. You need to ease him into all this.”
“I’m right here,” Dario reminds us.
Sandro grins. “We know.” He looks back down at me and says, “We’ll be watching you. He’ll offer you a ride, but he won’t do anything while so close to our property. We need to wait and make sure he doesn’t bring you back here.”
“The fuck we do,” Dario growls.
“We do,” Sandro says. “If we kill him while he’s on his way to safely deliver Mia back into your arms, that won’t go over so well with the other families.”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, squeezing his hand until he looks down at me. “I’ll be safe. If he tries anything, I’ll stab him and use his phone to call you.”
“You trained her for this,” Sandro reminds him, “and you trained her well.”
“She’s got this,” Sasha adds, and when we get to the garage, he proves what I’ve always known is true about him when he pulls me in for a hug. “Be careful, little witch. You’ve got this. Remember everything you’ve been taught, and don’t hesitate. Just pretend he’s one of the dummies hanging from the ceiling and start stabbing.”
It’s not bad advice, but I’m glad he’s speaking Russian because I imagine it would raise a few eyebrows. They already think he’s crazy, and Sandro doesn’t need to know he has dummies hanging from his ceiling that he occasionally stabs for fun.
“I love you, too, Sasha,” I say, pulling a smile from him before he ruffles my hair and heads straight for the Ducati. “So not fair,” I mutter while Sandro laughs and Dario looks like he’s seconds away from carrying me back inside and locking me in our room. Instead of doing what he wants, he grabs the pink helmet and puts it on my head before tightening the strap and making sure it’s on securely.
“I have something for you,” Dario says before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a watch. Grabbing my wrist, he puts it on me, and I give him a genuine smile when I see it.
“It’s perfect,” I say, running my fingers over the black, military-style watch. It’s not some delicate, diamond-studded watch, but it’s the exactone I would’ve chosen for myself. It’s a feminized version of the one he’s wearing, and I love it.
“It has a tracker in it,” he says, and I smile even bigger.
“I bet it does,” I say. “And I bet I could dive down to the bottom of the Ionian Sea and it would still keep working.”
“It would.” He reaches up and runs his thumb along my neck. “There’s also a tracker in your shoe and on the Vespa.”
“You’ve been busy.” I step closer and get on my tiptoes, and when he’s still too tall, I grab his shoulders and pull him down so I can kiss him. “I love you, and I’ll be fine. This will all be over soon, and then tomorrow you can buy me a Ducati.”
“I’ll buy you anything you want,amore mio, just keep yourself safe and come back to me.”
“I will,” I promise him, and then I force myself to take a step back, because if I don’t leave now, I never will. The garage door starts to rise as I get on the pink Vespa and start it. The roar of Sasha starting the Ducati overpowers the soft purr of my little engine, and I swear he’s laughing behind his dark helmet when he drives out of the garage, giving me a quick wave before gunning it and taking off to wherever it is he’s planning on hiding himself.
With as much dignity as I can muster, I keep my head up and slowly ease out of the garage and quickly putt-putt my way down the driveway. Looking back, I give Dario a reassuring smile, but it does nothing to soften the hard line of his jaw or unclench the hands that are in fists. He looks wound tight, like every muscle is straining to come running after me, but he doesn’t. He ignores every instinct he has and stands still, watching me until I disappear out the gate and out of view.
Sasha is long gone by the time I get to the road, and despite my embarrassment at being on a Vespa instead of the kick-ass Ducati, there’s no denying that it’s fun to drive. No, I’m not going to be kicking up dust or intimidating anyone while on this thing, but it’s a smooth ride, and the views around me are stunning. I keep to the main road for a few more miles, and then I take a left onto a side road that weaves around the coastline, just like Dario and I had already planned out.
So far I haven’t seen anyone else, and after twenty minutes of coasting along, I pull to the side of the narrow road. The sea stretches out on one side of me, and the other side is all rolling hills and olive groves. It’s gorgeous, but it also allows for Dario and his men to hide in the trees and watch what’s happening. It’s the perfect spot to become stranded.
