Chapter 11
Idon’t know what the hell snapped in me. I was cold before. Ice in my veins, nothing but the mission. She was supposed to be a pawn. A step on the way to burying her father six feet under and pissing on the dirt after.
But now someone opens their mouth, tosses a slur her way, and suddenly I’m ready to rip their tongue out with a pair of pliers and feed it back to them. Something inside me howls when she’s hurt, even just with words.
What the fuck happened to me?
I used to be a ghost in a crowd. A shadow without a name.
Apathetic by design. There was no room for anger, especially not on behalf of someone else.
But now it’s like I care. And not in the sweet, puppy-eyed way, but in the kind of way that makes me want to kill slower and make them feel the weight of what they said to her.
Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m not in love with her. Don’t even start with that fairy tale garbage. I don’t do love. That shit is for the soft, the desperate, the kind of fools who see storms coming and stand there smiling in the rain. Whatever this is, it’s not love.
Besides, you don’t fall in love in two days, especially not without even touching someone. That’s just bullshit.
But something’s wrong for sure. I think about her constantly. Where she is, who she’s with, what she’s thinking. And when someone talks down to her, my blood catches fire. I want to end them.
She was supposed to be a fucking job. A step in the goddamn plan. But now she’s everywhere in my head, and I don’t know why.
I walk outside the house, waiting for her to digest what just happened, get ready, and take her to her class. She had to change her clothes as they were splashed with a bit of Levi’s blood. Oops.
The day is warm, the sun is out there showing off, and the birds chirp around. Perfect weather for a ride, if I could actually use my damn bike. But I can’t, because my lunatic ex-boss thinks I’m dead.
But the silver lining … my sunglasses stay glued to my face instead of trying to take flight like they’ve got somewhere better to be. Always nice when your eyewear doesn’t try to escape at thirty miles per hour.
“Trying photosynthesis, you weed?” Wes’s cheerful voice snaps me back.
He stops beside me and lights a cigarette. Ew. Why does everyone around have to do that shit? One more reason I want to plant my fist in his face.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not even bothering to look at him. “I think I heard someone who shouldn’t be here talking.”
He lets out a dry chuckle and shakes his head, before he inhales his smoke.
He looks young—probably my age—but there’s gray at his buzzed temples, threading through black hair like it’s trying to sell him as someone wiser.
He wishes. He’s just noise with a face.
“Big attitude for a rookie,” he mutters, blowing smoke. “I’ve made quieter mouths choke on their own teeth.”
I give him a side glance. “Are you jealous, Leslie?”
He tosses the smoke down, grabs my shirt collar violently, and brings me closer. “Listen up, Mitch. One more word, and I’ll make that attitude something they’ll clean off the floor.”
“Careful, Wes. I’m into that shit.” I quip with a smile, my blade already grazing his throat. His jaw clenches as he realizes he’s been outsmarted. “And I sure as hell enjoy painting the walls.”
He doesn’t speak anymore. Finally, this fucker has shut the fuck up. “What’s wrong, Wesley? The rookie played you well?”
Isabella walks out and gets startled by the view of us ready to tear each other’s throats out. None of us talk. She walks past us, clearly angry and maybe even scared of me, heading to the black, bulletproof SUV in front of the entrance.
She’s mumbling something. Oh, how I want to fuck that something out of her mouth. My eyes are drawn to her firm, heart-shaped ass as she walks further, but I try to keep them under control. I don’t want Wesley-boy to realize how pathetic I’ve become within a day.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have to play the decent bodyguard. Why don’t you be a good boy and stay put until I give you some new orders?” I hiss, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Oh, he wants so much to talk back to me, but he’s hopefully started realizing his place. Good boy.
He lets go after a few seconds of rage that probably felt more intense in his head. I slide the blade from his throat, and he sulks back to his mansion.
I head to the oversized SUV, because obviously I get to drive the princess around like a lethal valet. Not that I can complain, because I would kill to be closer to her for longer. Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with me?
She’s already in the car when I enter it. I try to play cool around her, but the more I’m close to her, the harder it is for me to keep my eyes away from her.
I check her through the rearview mirror, and she instantly lowers her eyes. Was she looking at me?
“Where to?” I ask, my eyes lingering more than they should.
“Uni,” she replies without looking at me.
That’s it. We don’t talk throughout the whole drive. I catch her staring at me through the mirror, but every time she tries to deny it by looking away.
I don’t put the radio on. I want to hear her if she says something, or even if she just thinks too loud. Sometimes people think out loud without meaning to, and I don’t want to miss that.
I know that sounds messed up. Pathetic, maybe. Whatever.
She starts singing some P!nk song at one point, really quiet, barely even a whisper. But I hear it. I think it’s “Just Give Me a Reason,” but I’m not sure. I’m not really listening to the song. It’s not my kind of music, anyway.
What matters was that she is singing.
Upon arriving at the university’s parking lot, I park the car and, of course, everyone’s eyes fall on us—on the car, actually.
She lingers in the car for a while longer but without talking. I bet she’s dying to talk to me. I certainly am to her.
“Fancy, huh?” I ask.
“The perks of having such a rich father,” she says, rolling her blue eyes. “You have to endure everyone’s eyes on you.”
“Do you want me to beat some up?” I ask with a smile. I actually mean it.
“That’s your only way of solving your issues?” she asks, raising her eyes to look at me directly for the first time.
“Of course not. Do you think I’m such a savage?” I click my tongue. “I won’t lie, though. This way is more fun.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “And you say you’re not a savage.”
Is she mad at me?
She gets out of the car, her movements fierce and sharp. I do the same, standing right in front of her, halting her way.
“I can be a savage,” I say quietly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “But only with those that deserve it.”
Her long lashes flicker between my eyes. For a while, she remains quiet, as if debating what to say.
“You didn’t have to do that to Levi,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear again, as if I didn’t just do it.
“I had to.”
“Don’t worry. Father wouldn’t fire you if you didn’t.”
My eyes roam all over her face. Fuck, it seems impossible for me to stop looking at her.
“I said I didn’t do it because of the job, little orchid.” I lean in closer. “I meant it.”
Her lower lip starts trembling, just a little bit, as if she’s scared of me. I don’t mind. I said I will protect her, defend her, and even save her, if I have to.
From the first moment I saw her, I felt something igniting in me. I didn’t know what it was—hell, I still have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me. But I know one thing.
She is different.
She carries a burden that not many people can carry. The damage is hidden, buried where no eyes can reach. But I can see it.
People think she’s raised in velvet sheets and feathered pillows. That she has everything she asks for. Of course Fabio Calvano’s daughter would have everything. But as always, people are fucking wrong.
When I saw her eyes as her parents tore her down, I saw myself all over again.
Both seemingly spoiled, drenched in useless crap no kid actually needs, while their own parents couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.
Trying every day to prove we’re there and we’re worth their attention.
Isabella is still trying to grab their attention. I stopped way too soon.
“I don’t know if I should be afraid of you, or be grateful to you,” she says bashfully.
“You seem like a smart girl,” I chuckle. “You should be both.”
“Uhm … what?” she stutters, widening her feline eyes.
Her awkwardness is so deliciously sexy. I never liked such women, but something about her makes me look for an excuse to make her feel awkward again and again.
I take two steps forward, trapping her between the car and me, and savor it.
“Your daddy commanded me not to let anyone touch you,” I say, reaching for the ends of her hair.
“But you’re touching me now,” she mumbles with a shaky voice.
I hum. “Look at that. I didn’t notice.” I gently trace her jawline with my fingers. “But that could be our secret.”
No, fuck that.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
He made it crystal clear. One touch and she’s dead, and I know that wasn’t just some drama-queen bluff. That prick wasn’t lying. But hell, I could just put him in the ground and have her however the fuck I want. What’s the big damn deal? He’s a useless sack of shit anyway.
“My dad will kill you if he finds out,” she says quietly, almost like a secret.
Oh baby, if you only knew that it’s not me who’s in danger.
“I can always eliminate the threat,” I reply with a sarcastic smirk.
“No! You won’t kill my father!” Her eyes widen to their fullest.
I remove my hand from her. “Why? I’m sure you won’t miss him.”
“No matter how much of a monster he is, he is still my father, and I love him.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, I think I love him. He’s all I know.”
Her ignorance grates the hell out of me. How can she not get it? He’s a fucking monster. He’s the kind of sick fuck who’d kill his own kid. Already shot her once because I didn’t want to cooperate.
Her father …