Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“Come with me, cara. I’ll take care of you.” I released her hair but kept a hold of her hand.
“Um, I couldn’t ask that,” she mumbled.
I opened the door to the car and gently tugged her closer. “I wasn’t asking.”
Her eyes widened a little, but she didn’t appear put off by my statement.
When I gestured for her to get in, she looked hesitant for barely a moment, but then her shoulders sagged in relief and she climbed into the back of the vehicle. Domenico appeared at my side and held out his hand, looking pointedly at my hip.
I nodded, grateful for his clear thinking, and surreptitiously passed him my gun. Just as I followed my angel into the car, a movement at the corner of the building drew my attention. A man limped around it, his furious eyes scanning his surroundings wildly. He looked vaguely familiar, but whoever he was, I had the feeling this was the man who had abused my angel.
I put my hand on Domenico’s arm and waited for the stranger's eyes to land on me. His gaze strayed to the open car door, then back to my face, his brow furrowing. At my simple nod, his face contorted with rage, and he began to move toward us.
“Tell Alec to give my angel’s attacker a message,” I ordered Domenico. “She is under my protection, and he should forget she ever existed. Then tell Marco to find out who the fuck he is and everything about him. If he took a shit an hour ago, it better be in the report. And I want a man on him at all times. Don’t bother to be subtle about it.” My brother, Marcello, could find just about anything or anyone as long as they had a digital trail.
“Fatto,” Domenico confirmed.
Turning back to the car, I put the asshole out of my mind to focus on my angel. She glanced at me with a small smile when I took the seat beside her and didn’t shy away. I was pleased that she instinctively felt safe with me. It would help her accept her new future when I told her that she now belonged to me.
3
VIVIENNE
Climbing into a stranger’s SUV probably wasn’t the wisest choice, but I was desperate enough to get away from Chet that I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now that I didn’t have to worry about my ex-fiancé hitting me again—or worse—I had new problems to be concerned about. Like the man sitting next to me…and what I would do next.
I didn’t know the exact details of the story Chet would spin for our parents, but it was sure to put all the blame on me while painting him as the innocent party. But even if he told them the truth about hitting me, that probably wouldn’t be enough for my mom and dad to forgive me for running off the way I did, basically calling off the engagement.
My head was spinning, and I had no idea what to say to my rescuer, so I heaved a deep sigh of relief when he pulled out his phone and sent a text to someone. It gave me a brief reprieve to gather my addled wits.
After riding in silence for several more minutes, I flashed him a shaky smile. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Raffaele DeLuca,” he murmured. “Most people call me Rafa.”
Ducking my head to hide the blush that spread across my cheeks at his deep voice, I smoothed the hem of my dress. “I’m sorry to have put you in an awkward position.”
“You don’t need to apologize, cara. I only do what I want, when I want. So you didn’t put me in any kind of position. You’re in my vehicle, under my protection, because it’s what I wanted.”
Between the luxurious SUV, bodyguards, and bespoke suit, there was no missing that Rafa DeLuca was a wealthy man. Or that his response was filled with an arrogance that could only come from someone who was used to getting his way. That made me wary since he had that in common with Chet.
But I was also curious about him. Much more than I should be, considering we just met and probably wouldn’t ever see each other again once I found the courage to go home. Not that I was in any rush to see my parents anytime soon for what was bound to be a big fight. But it wasn't as though I could stay with Rafa forever.
“Um…okay then.”
“And you?”
My brows drew together. “Me what?”
“What’s your name, cara?”
If he kept using that nickname for me in a sexy Italian accent, I was going to melt into a puddle all over the expensive leather of my seat. “Vivienne Blackwell.”
“A beautiful name for a gorgeous woman,” he replied in a silky tone that sent a shiver of awareness down my spine.