Page 60 of The Bad Wedding Date

Charlotte: If only you hadn’t let me down today, Jonah, I wouldn’t be so confused right now.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sad on her behalf.

Responding to Wade quickly, I told him to message her back on Jonah’s behalf, telling her to call him if she was in danger and needed his help. Of course, it was more game playing. Jonah couldn’t help her now, no matter how much he wanted to. Still, my morbid curiosity needed to know what was going on in that mind of hers. Two minutes later, her response came to me via Wade.

Charlotte: I’m safe. Just too many emotions at this wedding I don’t know how to process. Speak to you tomorrow when it’s finally over.

I’m safe.

Those had been the words I’d needed to see.

Shooting off another text, I told Wade to keep me up to date with Dean and Joey’s progress on following Matteo to this estate. The plan and everything we’d worked towards had gone to shit already, but it didn’t faze me too much. What made me good at what I did was my ability to think on my feet and change the course of direction if I needed to. Whatever happened, Vega wasn’t getting back on that plane and disappearing to his life of peace.

Not when so many women had suffered at his hands.

If the law wouldn’t do anything about him, I’d do it myself.

On my way to the bathroom, I chanced a glance into the bedroom to see if Charlotte had drifted to sleep, but she was buried so far beneath the thick duvet, I couldn’t see much of anything except her wisps of golden hair splayed along the pillow.

As quietly as I could, I had a wash, brushed my teeth, and took a long, hard look at myself in the bathroom mirror. The same man from the morning before stared back at me, only now he looked even more troubled. The need to protect someone was a different emotion to that of wanting revenge. The responsibility weighed heavy. The anger, unbelievably more powerful. If anyone tried to hurt Charlotte under my watch, I couldn’t explain what I would do to them.

“Remember why you started,” I whispered to myself before I made my way back into the main suite and turned out all the lights, leaving only the twinkling skyline of London to illuminate the space around me.

Breathing out a sigh as I soaked in the peace and quiet, I let myself fall back into the sofa.

I knew Charlotte had drifted to sleep not long after I’d settled. There was no rustling of sheets, no frustrated exhales, and no shuffling of pillows. As tempting as it was to go and watch her sleep to see if she looked as beautiful as I imagined, I wasn’t that guy. The first time I saw her sleeping, it would be with her permission, right after I’d held her small frame beneath my giant hands and made her body explode with pleasure.

At least that’s what I told myself. Fantasies like that could be a man’s ruin.

My eyes began to feel heavy, a deep sense of misplaced calmness washing over me, when another text from Wade lit up my phone screen in my lap.

Wade: Thought you’d be surprised to know Matteo hasn’t left The Savoy. He’s checked into the only room they had left.

I sat upright, electricity tearing through my veins. The bastard was still here, not a moment away from me, and at some point, he’d be asleep.

Me: Dean and Joey?

Wade: In the bar, awaiting your instructions.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I had him within my grasp, just as we’d originally hoped. The guy never changed his plans, too paranoid from all the death threats he’d received in the last few years and too good at slinking away like the slimy snake he’d become. This was a gift from the gods, and I felt it my very bones. In my gut.

It was an opportunity I couldn’t turn down.

Me: Keep them on standby.

Wade: Are we letting Matteo go?

Me: No.

Me: I’m going to get that son of a bitch myself.

19

Charlotte

The lights flashed around us, bright and beautiful, painting his face with all the colours of the rainbow. He didn’t need to be improved. He didn’t need his scars covering or the slight creases around his eyes to be smoothed out. That rough edge he wore so well was what sold him to me the most. He wasn’t like the rest of them, and for that, I was grateful. Especially as he stared deep into my eyes, never once looking away as the two of us danced like nobody and everybody was watching. We didn’t care. All I cared about was the pale grey that had now become my favourite colour. Not even the greens, yellows, purples, and blues of the lights around the dance floor could compare.

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