Page 52 of Dark Breaker

“You heard me,” I reply. “I don’t want you wearing those.”

She scowls. “I’ll wear what the fuck I want.”

“Will you now?” I taunt.

She goes downstairs to the main suite and I follow her. She opens up the different boxes.

“You bastard, you weren’t kidding!” She spins toward me. “How dare you touch my clothes!”

“I’ve bought you some dresses instead.” I open the closet next to the main entrance and reveal the expensive dresses I picked up for her.

“I can’t wear those on my Vespa!” she exclaims.

“You can have one of my cars then,” I tell her. “I have a Fiat you’ll like.”

“I don’t want your fucking Fiat,” she says. “I’m driving my Vespa!”

She exhales in a huff, then grabs some sweatpants and a T-Shirt from her stuff and marches past me.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To change!” she shouts.

I follow her. “I mean where are you headed after? You are going out, aren’t you?”

“None of your business!” She slams the bathroom door and locks it.

I’m going to follow her of course. The Tunisians are still out there. And Massimo already agreed that once she was in my care, I’d be in charge of her protection. I could put my men on her, but I realize I don’t want her fate in the hands of someone else, especially not the day after our wedding. Besides, I’m the one best suited to the job—she is my wife after all.

She emerges in the T-shirt and sweatpants, then stomps over to the main hall and looks through the boxes once again. She finds her biker boots and slides them on, then grabs her helmet from the same box. She strides to elevator and presses the button. When it chimes, she walks inside.

I follow.

“What do you want?” she asks as the doors close us inside.

“I’m going for a drive,” I tell her.

“Don’t follow me.”

“I won’t.” I lie. “I have work to do.”

The door opens and she hurries out into the crowded parking garage beneath the building. The vehicles are tightly packed, with no lanes between them—the attendant usually has to move other cars so I can leave in my chosen vehicle.

Rosa finds the attendant and he fetches her Vespa. All of my cars are hemmed in by other vehicles, save one—the Fiat. I grab the appropriate key from the wall and wave at the attendant to let him know I’m good.

I take the ramp and follow Rosa outside. She seems annoyed that I’m behind her, and quickly swerves between the traffic ahead.

I pursue, driving rather recklessly as I weave in and out of the other vehicles. No one honks at me. This is Sicily after all, where such behavior isn’t entirely uncommon. She slows down as she reaches a red light, and after checking both ways, she speeds right on through.

I reach the same intersection but I’m forced to stop to let another car with the right of way through. When it’s gone, I hit the accelerator and race through the red light to catch up with her.

She suddenly speeds across four lanes, two of them reserved for incoming traffic. I follow. Cars finally honk this time—while disregard for traffic rules is entirely common, and even permitted, driving the wrong way down a street isn’t. I narrowly avoid an accident before finally getting back into my proper lane.

After that somewhat harrowing detour, I keep well back from her Vespa. I want her to believe she’s lost me so that she drives more safely. Seems to be working so far.

I almost lose her when we reach a red light at a busy intersection. The cars are lined up in pairs five deep, but she simply scoots between them to the front of the intersection. Meanwhile I’m forced to stay behind as the Fiat is far too big to squeeze between the other vehicles.

When the light turns green I slowly make my way forward, catching glimpses of her here and there ahead. I finally pull out of the main mass of cars and spot her driving within a group of Vespas.