34
Bomb’s Away!!
Whoever the driver of the black vehicle was, he had made sure not to leave a single trace to investigate.
The videos arrived at an incredible speed, and as my husband promised, we watched them together, sitting on the pool loungers while Adriano enjoyed the water.
The phantom driver knew what they were doing, they had everything perfectly calculated and studied.
Even though only a fraction of a second was visible, it was apparent that they were wearing a balaclava, gloves, and sunglasses. Quite an achievement considering today”s twenty-eight degrees Celsius.
We watched as the car passed by the entrance gate of the residential complex, an hour and a half before I left the house, so it was ruled out that Romeo was the driver, regardless of the fact that my husband was seen leaving on a motorcycle with Adriano ten minutes after me.
The car hid, lurking somewhere beyond the reach of the cameras, and reappeared on the footage seconds after the Bugatti left with me at the wheel.
It was a BMW 3 series, a powerful model but within reach of many. There were thousands of cars like that roaming around. I noted down the license plate number and wasted no time calling one of my police contacts.
As expected, that license plate didn”t match the model; it was forged. We also used the same system for our dealers.
Romeo was with me in bed at that moment, so it couldn”t have been someone called by him. At that moment, he didn”t know if I would leave alone or if I was going somewhere. It didn”t make sense. My head was pounding from thinking so much.
Was it my father-in-law? Irene? An infiltrator? What if my husband was right, and they were after him instead of me?
”I don”t want you to leave the house alone again,” he commented, interrupting my musings. Romeo was sitting, leaning forward with his legs out of the hammock. I held his phone; I was lying down and couldn”t stop watching the footage over and over.
”At least not until we know who”s behind the shooting and who they were targeting.”
”Meaning you won”t go out alone either.”
It wasn”t a question, but a statement. I didn”t like being told what to do. It”s not like I intended to go out again without one of my men; I wasn”t stupid. But I also didn”t like the idea that if I couldn”t go, he would.
”Why not? If someone kills me before you, it would make your job easier,” he explained. His dark eyes watched my face attentively. I glared at him.
”I don”t want corpses that don”t deserve to be buried.”
”Then... do you doubt?”
”I like being a woman of my word, that”s all,” he offered a mischievous smile.
”Well, to be a woman of your word, you should have put on sunscreen; you”re going to burn,” he warned, gently caressing
my calf again. My whole body tensed.
Romeo pulled the bottle from under the hammock, which he had bought at the store, to apply it to his hands.
I remained silent. Was he going to apply it to me and massage me like he did with the oil the night before?
My nipples hardened at the thought, and a slight dampness crept between my thighs. I parted my lips to take a breath. I imagined those strong hands kneading my quadriceps, teasing me until I parted my legs to brush against the inner thigh and then subtly slip a finger inside.
I squeezed my legs together and focused my gaze when I heard his next question.
”Shall I get you something to drink? You seem overheated...”
He didn”t move his hand above me; the one that was already covered in cream was his, and I was rather frustrated.
”Pass me the sunscreen,” I grumbled, reaching out my hand. He brought it close to my fingers, and just as I was about to grab it, he took it away.
”Please...” he reproached softly.
”Spasiba,” I retorted with sarcasm, thanking him. I wasn”t going to play cat and mouse. I stretched out my hand in a swift motion to snatch it stoically.
He offered a playful chuckle.
”The idea that Russians are helpful and kind is an urban legend, isn”t it?”
”Just like the idea that Italians are romantic and never take off their sunglasses, even when it rains, are science fiction stereotypes.”
He let out a laugh. When he laughed, he was even more attractive. The nose piercing gleamed.
”I”m going to get something to drink, keep an eye on Adri, and make sure it”s the good one, we have enough misfortunes as it is, and we can”t afford any scares.” I grimaced in disgust. He didn”t ask for my phone, which surprised me. There was no
way I”d let him manipulate my phone.
I wasn”t going to miss the opportunity; the kid was still playing with the ball, so I went straight to check the calls. He didn”t lie about that either; the most recent call was to his men, and the next one was a missed call from Aleksa. Perhaps he had communicated with my executor via WhatsApp. I went to the messages. And none of them said anything special. If I entered the one that said Irene, it wasn”t because I cared about what she was talking about with her lover, I just wanted to check if she was out of the loop.
I snorted at the collection of messages like I miss you, when are you coming to see me? Followed by a collection of unanswered dirty photos. The worst was the final blow, an extremely explicit video titled: I had to go down to the fruit shop.
My finger couldn”t resist the impulse, and I pressed play. Irene appeared with a lascivious smirk, holding up a huge zucchini labeled ”Romeo.” She spread her legs on the couch and started rubbing her pussy with it. I couldn”t believe it. Didn”t that woman have a proper vibrator that she had to play with that?
Irene began to pant, grabbed a bottle of lubricant, and poured a good amount. Was she really going to fuck herself with it? Were Irene and Romeo into dendrophilia?
”It”s not okay to look at my dad”s phone,” a voice said over my shoulder.
I jumped, causing the phone to slip from my hand. Onto the grass. Adriano went for it, seeing what was on the screen. I grabbed it quickly and tried to stop the damn video. The crazy redhead was panting louder as she rubbed herself with it. And the kid was happening on the sreen. I couldn’t manage to stop it between the sweat and the acrylic nails.
”Don”t look!” I reproached him.
”What”s that? What is Irene doing? Why is she screaming?”
How the hell do you stop this phone?! Screw it! I pressed the side button of the phone, and the screen went black.
”Because...” I couldn”t think of anything. ”She was fertilizing the vegetables with a new technique before planting.”
Romeo appeared holding a couple of glasses, seemingly pleased.
”I”m glad you”re starting to talk instead of fighting,” he said.
”Nikita was snooping on your phone,” the little tattletale accused me. I felt like giving him a slap that would shut him up.
”Nikita wasn”t snooping, I let her borrow it,” Romeo clarified, not asking me to return it.
”She”s weird. Why is she watching videos about growing vegetables?” Romeo frowned. Now that I thought about it, the video didn”t appear as watched. With any luck, he wouldn”t have any idea what the kid was talking about.
”Because I”m very fond of one hundred percent natural food,” I coughed, my cheeks burning.
”Here,” my husband handed me the glass.
”I”m thirsty too, didn”t you bring me anything?” Adriano protested.
”Sorry, you were in the water, but you can go to the bar and have it added to your grandfather”s bill,” the kid didn”t wait to hear anything else, he ran off.
”Can I have my phone back?” he asked, reaching out his hand.
”No,” I replied quickly. I couldn”t do it because the first thing that would appear when I turned it on was what I was watching. He raised his eyebrows, left his glass on the table, and asked me why.
”Let me see,” he said with a ninja move, snatching the phone from me before I could react.
”No!” I exclaimed again as I watched him press the side button. His eyes turned to me, and instead of an angry expression, there was one of amusement.
”Wow, wow, wow, Mrs. Capulet. So it turns out you are a snoop and watching sexually explicit videos sent by my lover turns you on,” he teased.
”I”m not turned on by that skank! I just wanted to see how far she was willing to go. If you”re both into messing around with fruits and vegetables, you should get tested for aphids,” I retorted. Romeo burst out laughing, and I couldn”t help but smile at the somewhat absurd situation.
”Were you jealous, and that”s why you snooped on other people”s conversations?” he asked.
”Me? Jealous? Of that crazy woman? Never!”
He tossed the phone onto the hammock and, in a flash, he had me over his shoulder, kicking and screaming.
”Let me go!”
”No way, now you”re coming with me to the water to drown any potential pests.”
He jumped with me into the pool, and when I emerged spitting out the half-liter I had swallowed, he started splashing me like a damn kid. I screamed and felt the need to fight back.
”You won”t beat me at this!” I exclaimed, splashing him back. We kept at it until I started coughing, and then I found myself pressed against the wall. Naturally, I spread my legs, wrapped them around his waist, and let him carry me.
”Breathe,” he murmured, pushing my wet hair behind my ear. ”Are you okay?” His voice was soft. I locked my eyes onto his as I felt the wall against my back and his hardness against my center.
”Yes,” I whispered, licking one of the droplets that had trickled to my lips, causing him to shiver. My nails dug into his shoulders. There was no one else in the water. Romeo told me that the pool wasn”t used much. People came to the club to play, socialize, and eat at the restaurant rather than sunbathe or swim.
The swaying continued to heat me up.
”Are you sure?” he insisted.
”Yes,” I replied. His beard glistened with tiny water droplets. His lips were so wet..., so tempting, getting closer and closer, and I... I...
”Bomb”s away!” The childish shout preceded an apocalypse of water and play. Goodbye, heated moment with Romeo.