Page 57

“You’re right, I was just having a good time,” I lied, digging my nails into my palm until half crescents formed in my flesh.

His voice dropped to that scary level of cold. “It’s time to come home. Where are you?”

I bit my lip. A few words and this would all be over. Even if I couldn’t make it to the airport, even if I’d been followed, this call would save me. Alessandro would send his men south. Leonardo would pay for the freaking military to storm the city and rescue me Black Ops style.

Laughter followed by teasing sounded from the corner of the restaurant. There was a piece of chocolate pie in front of the couple. One had placed whipped cream on the other’s nose while stealing a large bite.

They were so...happy.

Their banter couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. And then, the man swatted the woman’s hand away. He lifted the fork and brought a large bite to her mouth. She stared adoringly at him as her lips slid over the utensil.

What did I want?

I want that.

Taking a deep breath, I did the bravest thing I’d ever done. “I’m taking charge of my life. I just called to tell you I was fine, and I’ll check in when I can. Don’t worry about me.”

I slammed the phone back on the receiver, silencing his torrent of words. I did it. One simple act, and I was cut off from any aid. For the first time in my life, I was well and truly on my own.

A shaky breath left my lungs. Free. Even if this wasn’t the perfect daydream I craved, I was...free.

My feet seemed to barely touch the ground as I walked back to my seat, where a delicious looking platter waited for me. I dove in, shoveling the greasy food down my throat. The platter was clean in less than five minutes.

“Can I get you anything else?” the cook teased.

“Yes, one slice of chocolate pie to go.” When he gave it to me, I handed him the hundred. “Keep the change. I don’t need it anymore.”

His eyes about fell out of his head, making me laugh as I left. The need to escape was gone. I chose my prison, and now it was time to serve the sentence.

Chapter 19 – Markos

This model of ten millimeter was designed to be sleek and compact, light yet powerful. Right now, staring at the beautiful threat, the handgun had to weigh ninety pounds. My arm hung at my side, the deadweight pulsing like a living thing in my grip.

Theos—no. Just no.

But to protect my people, I would silence her.

“Then why aren’t you moving?”a voice snarled in the back of my mind.

Ignoring the menacing whisper, I continued to watch. Serena spoke rapidly. Her hands flew about as if they were a vital part of the conversation, each gesture inserted at the proper time.

And then she stopped. Her gaze trained on the old couple eating pie.

Something...heavenly shifted through her features. The emotion was so intense, so vibrant, that I found myself stepping forward, my right hand reaching out to touch.

The gun chinked against the glass window.

I jerked back. The gun slammed back into the shoulder holster before I gave into the urge to throw it as far away from me as possible.

Serena might have to be stopped, but I wasn’t going to shoot her. There were other ways to tame the beauty. As I contemplated them, she slammed the phone back onto its holder and spoke again to the cook. Then she gobbled her food as though she’d been starved. I watched, noting how each bite seemed to be consumed with more appreciation than if it was a meal at a five-star restaurant. With a small box of pie in her hand, she paid the cook and left.

Pushing aside the irrelevant question of where she obtained that money, I noted the direction she began to walk before slipping into the diner for a quick chat.

“What can I get you to drink— What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the cook shouted at me.

The number on the phone flashed with a strange area code. I reached for a pen and scrawled down the digits.

The cook was there in a flash, glaring in my face.