Page 83 of The Sexy Billionaire

“No,” I reiterate, standing my ground.

His eyes narrow, and I brace for another slap, but as I watch, his hand moves in slow motion, and that’s when something clicks inside of me. My knee comes up, hitting him in the balls just as his hand connects with me again, but this time, he hits my jaw instead of my cheek, rattling my teeth. I shake it off as Michael drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes and then I run. On wobbly legs, I rush down the street through the bustling traffic and away from my insane ex-husband. I need help. I need to find the closest police station and get them to call Smith. I look around to see if he’s following me, but as I do, I trip over the gutter and end up splayed out against the concrete. The hard surface slices up my bare legs underneath my sundress, my hands sliding across the rough surface.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

A crowd starts to gather around me, helping me up. “Please, can someone call nine-one-one? My ex just attacked me,” I scream at the people looking at me with concern. Over their shoulders, I see Michael getting up and staring at me; he hesitates a couple of moments before he decides to get out of there, running in the opposite direction.

“Paige, Paige,” a familiar voice calls out, and I see Natalia heading toward me. I push the bystanders aside and rush towardher. “Oh my god, Paige, look at you,” she states, concern lacing her face.

“Michael,” is all I pant.

Her dark eyes widen, and she wraps her arms around me and rushes me back to the apartment. “Ray, call Gio,” she yells at her driver, who nods. With shaky hands, I type in the passcode, and we step into the foyer, where I collapse, knowing I’m safe. I absently notice all my bags are still where I left them. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “No.” My body begins to shake, the shock catching up with me.

Her driver knocks on the glass door, and Natalia lets him in. “He’s on his way. I’ll wait for him outside, miss,” he tells her before handing her something and disappearing outside again.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up,” she says, helping me to get up off the floor, and I hobble toward the elevator as she grabs the bags.

“My phone, I need to call my brother,” I say as panic rushes through my veins.

“I have it. Let’s get you upstairs.”

Giorgio is the first to arrive as Smith is on the other side of town. Callie is in a meeting and Savannah was at the hairdresser when Natalia called them to let them know what happened.

“Where is she?” I hear Giorgio’s panicked voice as he enters the apartment. A slew of Italian curse words fall from his mouth as he drops to his knees in front of me, his hand running over my bloodied knees, raising goosebumps over my skin. “Did he do this to you?” he asks darkly, his chocolatey eyes almost molten as he looks up at me.

“That was me trying to get away, but this—” I hold my hand up against my face where he hit me, “—was him, and these—” I turn my arm and show him the bruises, “—was him too.” More Italian curse words. I reach out and interrupt his threats of violence. “Please, leave him alone, he’s dangerous.”

His face falls as he takes in my plea. “He has no idea how dangerous I can be,Amore mio.”

I don’t want to start a war between them. “Let the police deal with him, please, Gio.” I let the tears fall.

His face softens. “Okay.” He leans forward and kisses my hands.

It’s not long until Smith arrives, bursting through his front door as if he’s on a raid. He clocks me on his sofa, curled up next to Gio, and rushes over. I get up and wrap myself around him as I break down again.

“He's going to jail, Paige. I promise you, this man is done,” he tries to reassure me.

“Why is he doing this to me?” I question my brother.

“Ego or he’s insane, I’m not sure yet,” he says softly. Noticing the bruises on my face, his hand touches them gently. Moments later, Callie and Savannah rush through the door and head toward me with a million and one questions. It takes a while to untangle myself and head back to the sofa. Giorgio has moved to stand with his sister away from us, speaking in hushed Italian.

“I don’t think New York is safe for you anymore, Paige. Maybe you should go up to the place in the Hamptons,” Smith suggests.

“You don’t think he can track her there,” Callie adds.

“Not when he’s in jail.”

Callie huffs. “You know this world, Smith, the good guys don’t always win.” My brother’s eyes narrow on Callie, but he nods in agreement.

“Why doesn’t Paige go overseas? Can’t you track Michael via his passport? So, if he does somehow not end up in jail, he’s easier to track,” Savannah suggests.

“She’s not wrong,” Smith agrees.

“Paige can come back with us. We have our own jet, he would never know she’s left,” Natalia pipes in.

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