Page 53 of Immoral

"Gianni! What—"

He puts his hand over my mouth, glances around the space, then grabs my robe. He drapes it over my shoulders. "We're leaving."

"What?"

He doesn't bother with his robe and maneuvers me quickly through the spa. When we step inside the elevator, the doors shut just as the two men turn the corner, speaking in Italian.

Panic fills me. "Are they following us?"

Gianni briefly shuts his eyes before hatred erupts in them. "I'm sorry, Cara. We're going home."

More anxiety expands in my belly. "Do you know them?"

He clenches his jaw. "I've never seen them before."

"But you know them?" I repeat.

He stares at the metal door as heat creeps into his cheeks.

"Gianni!" I demand.

He meets my eye. "They spoke Venetian dialect."

I throw my hands in the air. "What does that mean?"

His jaw twitches. He angrily states, "The Abruzzos speak Venetian. You should know this from your time with that pig."

My gut drops as the elevator doors open. The thought crosses my mind that Gianni might never forgive me for choosing Uberto over him. It shouldn't bother me based on our past, but an ache in my heart expands.

He glances in both directions then guides me down the hall to our suite. When we step inside, he pushes me behind him and does a quick sweep of the room. "Get dressed," he orders then goes back to the door and secures the dead bolt.

I freeze, watching him.

He pulls yoga pants and a sweatshirt out of the dresser and tosses them to me. "I need you to do what I say, right now."

"Wh-why are the Abruzzos here?" I ask but already know the answer.

Gianni cups my cheeks. "I should have known better than to go anywhere without security. I'm sorry, my tesoro. I promise you, I'll make up for this. But we need to get out of here, now."

My mouth turns dry. I open it, but nothing comes out.

"Cara, it's time to get dressed," Gianni sternly orders. Then he picks up his phone, swipes at the screen, and starts speaking aggressively in Italian.

I snap out of it and throw on my clothes. Gianni slides a pair of joggers and a T-shirt on. He grabs his Glock and checks the chamber. Then he puts the silencer on it.

I've seen him a thousand times with his gun, but I've never felt scared before. Not once did I ever feel anything but safe around him. Something about Gianni always made me feel untouchable. Yet, I'm suddenly frightened about what might happen. I blurt out, "How did they know we were here?"

He sniffs hard. "I don't know."

The sound of metal unlocking hits my ears. Someone turns the doorknob, but the dead bolt stops the door from opening.

Gianni pushes me into the bathroom, quietly ordering, "Don't leave this room."

"What are you going to do?" I cry out.

He puts his fingers over my lips. "This isn't the time for questions. Stay in here while I take care of this."

A loud bang erupts. Whoever is on the other side of the door wants to get in. They continue trying to open it. My heart beats so hard, I'm sure Gianni can hear it.

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