Page 125 of The Sexy Billionaire

“I doubt it, but I’m not taking the chance. I’m bringing you back to my villa. You’ll be safe there.”

“What about the paparazzi?” she asks quietly.

“Most are at the event, trying to get the scoop on us there. Security has advised me that no one is at home,” I reassure her.

“Why would he be here? I don’t understand. Why would he follow me here? He hates Italy,” she asks as tears slide down her cheeks.

I wipe them away, but each new teardrop is like a dagger to my stomach. “I’m sure he isn’t here. We are just being cautious.”

“I thought this nightmare was over. Why won’t it be over?” she asks before burying her face in my chest as she starts to break down. She cries all the way home.

I carry her exhausted body from the car and up the stairs. I’m thankful for my underground garage in case there is a lone photographer out there waiting for his scoop. I carry her up another flight of stairs to my bedroom and lay her on the bed. She looks so beautiful, so fragile, there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for this woman. I slip her shoes off and place them at the side of the bed, then reach around, remove her necklace, and lay it on the bedside table. I walk into my closet and pull out one of my T-shirts for her before I remove my tuxedo and slip into something more comfortable. When I walk out, she is softly snoring. Knowing she’s not going to be comfortable sleeping in that evening dress, I help her out of it, and she grumbles as I move her around. She’s like a rag doll as I slide the material from her creamy skin. She’s lying naked on my bed, and as much as my dick twitches to life, now is not the time. I slide my shirt over her head and repeat the process. Then I remember the lingerie I bought her that was going to be a surprise, and I grab the lace bottoms and slide the silky material up over her thighs, covering her. I know how much she hates not wearing underwear to bed. I place a kiss on her forehead as I tuck her in.

Grabbing my phone, I close the door to my bedroom behind me and call Smith.

“Do you have her?” he asks in a panic.

“She’s asleep at my home. She’s safe.”

“Thank fuck. This fucking asshole, hasn’t he done enough?” he curses down the phone.

“What do you know?”

“Nothing. No one has seen him. Apparently, he’s been missing for a couple of days. I thought that her leaving for Italy would be the end of it. I don’t think it is,” he explains.

“I’ve called in favors to see if he is in Italy, but I don’t think we will know until morning.”

“Yeah, same here. As long as she is safe with you, that’s all that matters. Thank you for looking after her,” he says.

“This probably isn’t the right time to tell you, I know Paige wanted to wait, but you need to know that we’re together. I love your sister, always have, always will. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe.”

Silence fills the line between us.

“You’re together?” he asks slowly.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

“The entire time she’s been here,” I confess.

“The entire what?” he shouts.

“I know. The situation with my engagement was complicated, and I didn’t want to bring her into the media frenzy. We thought the fewer people that knew, the safer she would be.”

“I’m her brother. Does she not trust me?”

What do I say to that? “She does. I think she didn’t want to worry you.”

“Which is just code for she didn’t want a lecture,” he mumbles. “I don’t have anything against you, Gio, but that’s my sister. I’ll protect her until my dying breath, you understand me.”

“I’d do the same for her and my own sisters,” I tell him.

“Good. Well, I’m glad she has you to keep her safe when I can’t. Stay in touch and let me know when you hear anything.”

“Will do.” And with that, he hangs up.

I’m woken by my phone ringing beside me, and I pick it up without even checking who it is and answer it.

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