Page 55 of Dark Breaker

I cross the street and head back toward my car. I could have stayed on the same sidewalk as Rosa, but I want her to think I won’t try to follow her again.

She’s fleeing faster than I thought: she’s already in the cafe. I watch as she gives Michela a quick hug before leaving again and hopping on her Vespa.

Shit.

I race toward my car but realize I won’t make it in time. As she speeds away I stop and watch her turn down a side street. I think she’s safe, at least for the time being. The Tunisians will be less likely to bother her again, going forward.

I hope that’s the case anyway.

9

Rosa

Idrive aimlessly through the streets of Palermo. It’s a Sunday, no classes today. In theory the streets should be quieter, but they’re still fairly busy. I miss Ustica’s lower traffic levels.

Again I was followed. So Massimo was right to set a guard on me before the wedding. And if Fabio hadn’t been there, would those men really have stood back and merely watched? Or were they waiting for an opportunity to snatch me? Or kill me?

I don’t know. So many unanswered questions.

Still, I did answer one question today. A very important one in fact.

I stopped Fabio from killing those two men. I knew he wouldn’t fire when I stepped in front of his gun—his alliance with my family is too important for that. But I didn’t know, not for sure, whether he would spare them afterward. That he did tells me he cares enough about me to at least listen to me when I plead for something.

So that’s a start.

I just had to make him see the sense of the situation. He doesn’t want any further escalation with the Tunisians, after all. I still remember how full of rage his eyes were when he was about to kill them. Just pure, red fury. I’m definitely relieved I can get through to him when he’s like that. I might be the only one who can. And that makes me feel… special, somehow. Needed. Wanted.

He did call me “his property” again. Not sure how I feel about that. I think a part of me is starting to like it. He did protect me, after all, so being his property isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Also, I do belong to him in marriage. Just as he belongs to me.

He’s my property as well.

Interesting. Guess that means I’ll have to protect him, too, if I can. That was part of my wedding vow, after all, though I didn’t think much of it at the time. He was treating the whole wedding like a joke, trying to piss me off, and it worked.

I chuckle. Well, I got him back with that bite.

Anyway, just because I’m “his property” doesn’t mean he can dress me up however he sees fit. I’m not his Barbie doll, just as he’s not my Ken. Though it might be fun to dress him up… not that he needs any fashion advice.

So yeah, my outfits are mine to choose. He knows I’ve picked up a new leather jumpsuit, but he didn’t say anything about it earlier, probably because the situation was a bit tense, to say the least.

So let’s see what he does when I get home.

I ride for another hour before returning to Fabio’s apartment. I hop off my Vespa in the middle of the garage and hand the attendant my key so he can park it wherever he wants.

“Ciao Rosa,” the attendant says with a big smile.

“Ciao Giuseppe,” I reply.

I take the elevator to the top floor. It still takes some getting used to, I mean stepping out of an elevator and finding myself standing directly in my home. No hallways, no adjacent rooms, the whole floor and rooftop to myself. Well, me and Fabio.

The smell of steak and risotto drifts to me from the kitchen and my stomach growls.

“You’re a cook, too?” I ask him as I waltz inside. “Or did you get that delivered?”

When I see the pots, my question is answered.

Fabio merely smirks. “What do you think?”

“Delivery,” I mock.