“No, I—” My words were cut short by the sudden chime of his phone.
We both froze. I expected him to silence it, but instead, he pushed his chair back.
“Excuse me,” he murmured, disappearing into the house.
Left alone, I pulled out the small black box from my handbag and placed it on the table. Inside was a wristwatch, something I’d thought would suit him. Wealthy men always appreciated watches, didn’t they? Smiling, I straightened in my chair, ready to surprise him when he returned.
But when he came back, he wasn’t alone. His two bodyguards trailed behind, their presence radiating tension. Marco looked almost panicked, as if in a hurry.
“Marco?” I stood, concern sharpening my voice. He stopped before me. I could feel the heat of his breath.
“You need to leave,” he said as he grabbed my handbag and handed it to me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, gripping his wrist before he could step away.
“I don’t have time to explain this,” He whispered, his hands cradling my face with an intimacy that only deepened my confusion. “Trust me, okay?” His lips brushed my forehead. “Go.”
Before I could respond, his guards closed in. They gripped my arms, almost bruising, and dragged me toward the back gate.
“Wait.” I turned to one, writhing in their hold. My shoes scraped against the pavement as I struggled. “Marco.”
“It’s dangerous here,” one of them muttered.
Panic surged as he hoisted me over his broad shoulder, the world tilting violently. I beat my fists against the man’s back, but he didn’t flinch.
“Put me down,” I shouted, my voice ringing out into the darkness. “I can walk.”
The farther we moved from the glowing lights of Marco’s house, the heavier the dread became.
Darkness closed in around us until the sharp cracks of gunfire shattered the night. The bodyguard dumped me on the sand, and pain jolted through my body as I landed. Disoriented, I tried to get up, but the sight of Marco’s bodyguards standing at attention froze me. They had drawn their guns and aimed at a figure emerging from the darkness.
The man stood a few feet from where we were, a cigarette between his fingers. His posture was relaxed, but his presence was anything but. Danger radiated from him. Though his face was obscured, his aura screamed authority.
I shuffled backward, desperate to distance myself. Yet my breath caught when the sound of a gunshot tore through the air. One of Marco’s guards crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.
The second guard tensed, but I couldn’t bear to look. Terror rooted me in place as the distant figure took a slow drag of his cigarette, unbothered.
Run, Alessia.
I tried to move, but fear had stolen my strength. Another shot rang out, and silence followed.
Footsteps approached until they stopped right behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear.
“I knew I’d meet you again,” a deep voice drawled.
My blood turned to ice.
That voice. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
“Now,” he continued, “be a good girl and lead the way.”
My limbs felt like lead. I couldn’t move.
“Very well,” he murmured, stepping closer until his presence loomed over me.
The scent of cigarettes mixed with his cologne met my nose. His chest pressed against my back as his hand moved to my face.
“You didn’t wear the dress,” he said, his words laced with quiet menace. “That bruised my pride.”