Page 19

I reach for the call button but miss as the car pulls to a harsh halt. The momentum sends us flying forward against our safety belts, then snapping back. The backs of our heads hit the headrests. The car finally comes to a complete stop. I shake off the rattle, and my only thought is her wellness.
I reach for her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” She shakes her head. “I’m not hurt. I’m fine.” Our abrupt stop shakes her, but she holds her composure.
I push the button, calling out to Nico over the intercom system. “What the hell was that?”
A woman’s shrill voice with a thick Italian accent comes over the speaker, along with Nico’s calm demeanor. “Signora, please step away from the vehicle,” he speaks out.
Her voice is closer and more unmistakable now as she shrieks at Nico. “Tell him I’m here. Right. NOW!”
Ice creeps through my veins. I snap my finger away from the button. “God dammit.” Rage bubbles inside me. I can’t believe she’s doing this kind of thing. Again. Liam told me I needed to have eyes on her, but I didn’t think it had gotten this out of control.
“Who was that with your driver?” She looks from me, back out the window, then back to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. It’s fine.” I unsnap my safety belt and grab the door handle, locking gazes with her. “Stay here. Do not move.”
“Okay—” Her breaths come quickly, clearly rattled.
I grab her hand. “Promise me you’ll stay here.”
“I will.” She nods.
I squeeze her hand warningly, or maybe it’s offering comfort; I’m not sure.
“Stay here!” I fly from the car, closing the door behind me with Ophelia safely inside. I run to the front of the vehicle to help Nico. He’s standing at the hood of the Alfa, the driver’s door flung open. He’s not yet pulled his gun, but his hand is on his hip, ready.
She stands there in the headlights, the shiny, red Porsche Macan I bought her parked skewed over the center lines of the road. A string of curse words in Italian streams from her red lips as she runs her hands up and down the sides of her pale, gray wool coat. “Where is HEEEEEE!”
Fuck. Bianca—my ex.
The woman who made me swear off all romantic relationships that lasted longer than the afterglow of sex.
“Bianca.” My booming voice snaps her out of her piercing shriek. “What do you want?”
“Harrison! There you are.” At the sight of my face, hers falls into a crumpled mess. Huge sobs rack her body as she wails. “Why won’t you answer any of my calls?”
She runs to me, but Nico flings his tree trunk of an arm straight out, wrapping it around her waist and stopping her. “Niiiicooooo! Please! Let me see him.” She digs her chipped red fingernails into his forearm, which luckily is protected by his black leather jacket.
“What the hell are you doing? You could have caused an accident. How did you know I was on this road anyway?” A chill creeps up my spine. “Have you been following me again?”
“What choice do I have?Amore mio? My love—” she cries out.
“Do not call me your love,” I warn.
“Harrison. Come here.” She reaches out for me.
I’ve heard she tried to buy a gun recently. We stopped her. Still, I don’t want to take chances. I scan her hands for a weapon. Thankfully, they’re empty.
An animal-like howl rises from her. “How can you say that? After all we’ve been through? And the baby—our precious baby.”
Not this again. A groan rumbles so deep through me that I feel it in my toes. Yanking my hand through my hair, I clench my jaw. There’s no civil response to what she’s just said.
A new, younger voice joins the conversation from behind me. “Baby? What baby? Who is this woman?”
Ophelia.
“Tell me that is NOT your voice that I hear, Ophelia.” Fuck. I shouldn’t have used her name in front of Bianca. I want to turn and face Ophelia, but I can’t. I keep my gaze trained on Bianca, ensuring she doesn’t make any sudden moves.