Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Alessio
The wolves have come out to play tonight. Lunging and attacking when we least expect it, but we should have expected it. A public outing with a role to play… I didn’t even think twice before standing next to that window with Rosalie. I didn’t even notice the car.
Maybe if I had been a bit more sober, I would have…but not tonight. Tonight, my head is fuzzy and the effects of the pills I took earlier combined with the alcohol only make it harder to think straight.
Damian does the thinking for us, and this I’m grateful for.
He suggests that we switch our clothing with others at the event so that they can leave in back to the Fiorelli estate as though that’s what we had done. I get dressed in a haze. The clothing is slightly too small, but it doesn’t matter.
We’re ushered out and into Damian’s car. I sit in the back seat while Rosalie sits in the front. She looks beyond pissed off still. Her makeup is smudged, and she’s bouncing her knee the entire ride.
I should be more concerned about her, but all I can think about is the feeling of Damian’s larger body as he pulled me to the floor.
As he held me against his chest while the shots were fired.
Each and every one. Steadfast, with my face buried against his neck.
It didn’t matter that Rosalie was there too.
He had looked at me first, questioned my safety first. Not hers.
Something about this makes me smile. Makes my heart beam in my chest. As though I’m so desperate for the man’s attention that I would wish harm upon myself just so he could save me again.
Pull me tight to his body and shield me like a precious thing.
Perhaps the drugs are getting to me more than I realize.
I close my eyes, and the next thing I know the car is parking behind an old brick building in one of the oldest and sketchiest parts of downtown.
It’s true, no one would expect us to come here after what had just happened, but I cannot stand sleeping on the shotty beds that are always in these low-brow safe houses.
It’s enough that I’m wearing a suit a size too small and my hair is a mess.
“There’s only one bed?” Rosalie asks when we get into the third-floor apartment. “Great.”
“I’m sure sleeping with your husband won’t be an issue,” Damian says casually.
I can’t help but smirk to myself as I walk across the living room of the small apartment. The floor creaks under my step as I come up behind Rosalie and Damian.
“Of course,” Rosalie replies, seeming to pull herself together.
Does she really think that Damian doesn’t know our marriage is just for our families?
Regardless, I’m not too thrilled with sharing a bed with her either, but the only other option is the couch and I imagine Damian will be occupying it.
Damian is looking at his phone for a long moment before he looks to me, then Rosalie. “Someone will be bringing by some groceries to get us through the next couple days, along with clothing.”
“Ah, good. I could never wear this dress to sleep,” Rosalie says with a sigh as she sits on the end of the bed.
“Are we sure that’s safe? They won’t be followed?” I ask.
“They might be; it’s always a risk, but you’ve gotta eat,” Damian replies.
I nod slowly. “I could go without if I needed to, but I suppose you’re right,” I say slowly.
“I could too,” Rosalie pipes up. “Don’t go thinking it’s just for my sake.” She stands up off the bed and unfolds her arms. She practically stomps over to the two of us with her heels clicking against the ground. “I’m not some damsel in distress.”
“Course not.” Damian takes a step to the side and looks toward the exit to the room. “I’ll be in the living room keeping an eye on the door. Avoid any windows, keep the curtains closed.”
“Got it,” I mumble.
I can’t help but watch him leave the room. The broadness of his back and shoulders catches my attention. The veins that travel from his elbows, where his sleeves are rolled up, down his forearms to his strong hands. Those hands were just on me, moments before, saving my life.
Heat surrounds me, filling my stomach and down lower. Lower than I want to think about. I try to ignore the arousal, but it’s difficult. I pry my eyes away from him and guide them over to Rosalie. She’s slowly taking her jacket and gloves off.
I take mine off as well, tossing them onto the chest at the end of the bed.
“We could have gone to a much better safe house,” she tells me. “My family has one by the water, it’s not so…” Rosalie looks around, then at the floor and wiggles her heeled food on the scuffed floorboards. “Used.”
“And that’s probably the first place they’ll look for us,” I remind her.
She sighs. “You’re right. God, this is all just a disaster,” she says, waving her arms around with her gloves in her hand. She lowers her voice for the next part. “This marriage was to ensure the safety of both of our families. After all, you were our biggest enemy. Now we’re both in hiding.”
I shake my head. “We may have been the biggest, but we’re not the only ones. All it takes is a couple families to decide to band together against our…newest collection, and…well, we’ve got a problem on our hands, darling.” I widen my eyes at her for a moment before folding my arms across my chest.
Rosalie scoffs. “We should be able to take care of them regardless. I shouldn’t even be here. I should be out there looking for them,” she wrings one of her gloves. “When I get my hands on whoever shot at us today—”
“Please, like they’re ever going to let us get anywhere near them.” I roll my eyes.
“Oh, are you scared, Alessio?” she asks me as she sits down on the end of the bed and crosses her ankles.
“No,” I reply, eyes darkening and voice lowering. “If Carmine wouldn’t drag me back, I’d be out there right now.”
It’s quiet for a moment between us.
“Face it, to them we are what they can’t risk losing. Therefore, we’re the hot item everyone wants. The further we are from the fight, the safer we are. That’s what they think anyway,” I remind her.
Rosalie chews on one of her ruby red lips and her lipstick stains her teeth, but is quickly removed by a swipe of her tongue. “They’re wrong. I feel like a sitting duck.”
“Maybe we are,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re okay with this?” she asks me.
I chuckle and step closer to her. “No, I’m not, but we do have Damian here to protect us. Plus, I’m certainly not going down without a fight.”
She scoffs and shakes her head, looking toward one of the curtained windows. “I know he saved us, but…” her brow furrows.
“What?” I ask her, voice quieter. I sit down on the end of the bed with about a foot between us. It’s uncomfortable in the suit I’m wearing, but at least I can look eye to eye with Rosalie.
“I don’t know that I trust him,” she admits.
I stare at her with uncertainty. “Your uncle hired him,” I remind her. “He’s unrelated to anything else. At least, I think so. If anything, I’m the one who shouldn’t trust him.”
“I don’t trust Eivor,” she says honestly. Her voice a whisper. “He wants more power than Carmine is willing to give him. He acts like the exchange of power along with our marriage is enough for him, but I don’t think it is.”
I scoot closer to her. “Maybe you should’ve mentioned this before,” I tell her with a huff. “Before we, you know, said I do in front of a judge.”
“It wouldn’t change anything. Everyone is dead set on this,” she reaches over and places her hand over mine. “Everyone expects this. No matter what. For power or to shut my uncle up… Hell, I think it should happen just to give both of our families a moment of peace.”
I look down at her smaller, more feminine hand above mine. My fingers are long and lithe, but hers are more narrow and her nails are perfectly manicured in a white pearl color. I slowly wrap my fingers around hers, curious.
Curious if it makes me feel anything.
I feel…something soft in my chest and my head. A little dizzy, maybe, but it’s nothing like being close to him. Damian.
Still, I squeeze her hand. “I think we can trust Damian,” I tell her. “He saved our lives. He could be dead right now. Even if Eivor’s plans are not what they seem, I don’t think we need to worry about Damian.”
Rosalie eyes my face, but doesn’t say anything.
“What?” I ask after a pause too long to be nothing.
She shakes her head.
“We can’t keep secrets,” I tell her. “Unless there’s one you already have.” I narrow my eyes.
She narrows her eyes at me in kind. “The way you talk about him. You’d better be careful or I might think you’re the one I shouldn’t trust.”
I let go of her hand and stand up from the bed. “Do you even trust me now?”
She laughs softly. “Good point.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” I tell her.
Rosalie tilts her head to the side. “You’re a handsome man, who is now my husband…but no. Not quite.”
I can’t help but smirk at her. “Smart woman.”
“I’ll never trust a man completely,” she tells me.
I lick my lips. “That’s probably for the best.”
Even dressed in comfortable sweats and a t-shirt, I can’t quite get to sleep tonight. I keep thinking about how easily it would have been to shoot me down if Damian hadn’t rushed over and gotten me and Rosalie to the ground.
I could be dead right now.
I’m used to that thought; at least I think I am.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened, much less almost died.
Yet, something about it is really getting to me.
I’d been higher than a kite at the rehearsal dinner, and all I’d wanted to do was get away from Rosalie, but she’d followed me to the window.
Was the shooter really trying to kill the both of us, or could Eivor have something to do with it? Could those bullets have been just for me?
I stare at the ceiling of the cruddy apartment safe-house with Rosalie at my side. She appears to be sleeping, based on the small chipmunk-like snores that come from her side of the bed.