Page 31 of Runaway in the Mafia
“I certainly hope you wouldn’t assault her.”
Okay. So maybe that came across wrong. I turned to walk out. “I’ll manage.”
“I’ll get my bag.”
Goddammit.“Why the fuck are you coming?”
“For a chat! What else?” She frowned at my scowl. “Geez, not you. All you do is talk about assault and guns. With Ahana. She’s been so busy I hardly get to hang out with her.”
She has.
“I have some stops to make.”
“No. You don’t.” She gave a pointed look at the clock on the wall to the right. “One second and I’ll be there.”
But because she obviously knew me better, she ran down to me, grabbed my car keys, and took off. I plotted her marriage. To someone who’d take her far away from Sicily. I needed her out of my house.Pronto.The problem was her fucking temper. No sane man would touch her with a ten-foot pole.
It took fifteen minutes of me pacing the driveway and ten fucking yells from the doorway before she strolled out with her shades and bag. She hadn’t even changed. I already pitied the man I was going to tie her to.
“You planning to drive as well, or are you going to give me the keys?” I growled.
“Geez, Vitale,” she tossed the keys and went around the car. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”
“More like a fucking sweet dream and a loaded gun,” I muttered.
“What?”
I pulled my door open and glared at her above my car. “What now?”
Her eyes squinted behind her shades. “Thought you said something.”
“Fuck’s sake. Can’t a man have his thoughts?” I grumbled. “Get the fuck in now.”
I fumed while I drove. Women. The exact reason I avoided them. Couldn’t figure out why Carlo was addicted to them. Although if I had cloned versions of Ahana running around...fuck no. One was enough for the clip on the cage to slip. To fill my brain with a hollow, empty space. I shivered to think of what two of her would do to me, let alone a dozen or more.
“Stop!”
I braked. Not exactly difficult when you drove in traffic in an ancient city. The narrow roads in Sicily weren’t exactly built for a supercar.
“What?”
“They have the newDolceout!” She met my stare with a huff. “The handbag from the new collection.”
“Good for you.” I started driving.
“Oh, come on, Vitale. Just park in front. You’ll see Ahana when she comes out.”
I didn’t know why I wanted a woman when I had enough nagging with the women already in my life.But she didn’t nag.She was fucking independent. With a growl, I stopped so Lia could skip out and parked a few meters ahead.
My gaze drifted to the glass doors across the street, but they skidded to the side, catching a speck of brown beyond them. She was speeding and crossing the street.Where the hell was she off to?I was out of my car in a second. My long strides kept up easily with her hurried ones in heels. I had a bad feeling about this. My heartbeat thumping in my chest was louder than the click-clack of her pumps on the cobbled pavement. Unease climbed up my throat. It was so instant, it burned a path through it. There was a good chance she would run away. Like she’d done before. Without anything tying her down and only a clean slate, she could leave everything behind, and I’d never be able to find her again. Suddenly, my nickname for her rattled me. I didn’t want to call her the runaway girl anymore. Agitation coiled within me as I followed her onto gravel and to the park beyond. My footsteps slowed as the density cleared. Her steps were sure.How many times has she done this?
I stopped seventy feet from her. There wasn’t a single sense of remorse as I hid behind the trunk of a tree when she sat down on a bench. Only frustration that I couldn’t get closer. It was obvious from the furtive glances she shot three-sixty degrees that she wanted her privacy. Nervous energy coloured my edges when she pulled out her phone and made a video call.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I didn’t like it. Didn’t like not seeing who she was talking to or not hearing the drift of the conversation. Didn’t like the secrets she was hiding. Was she even really hiding? Her laughter carried her happiness and hit me square in my chest. She had a life. An entire part of her I didn’t know anything about. In fact, I didn’t know anything about this girl. Except that she was beautiful and courageous. Because whatever she was running from, it had required strength to do it. To break the norm. She was kind. She loved her father. She was loyal. Optimistic. Smart. Talented. Hard working. She was—if I really listened to it and dug deep, and I was doing that, her conversation sounded shallow. As fake as a man holding a gun underneath a table. Which only left me with one question. Who was she pretending to be happy with?
Fifteen minutes later, she ended the call. Her phone dropped to her lap, and her head along with it. She squeezed her forehead with her fingertips. Her shoulders slumped like a tangible weight brought her down. They shook with the effort of it.
