Chapter 10
Mia
I knew this would happen. It’s my own fault for letting him into my bed. I should have kicked him out. I’m so furious during my drive, I don’t even know how I’ve got home. Pulling into my driveway, I notice Max is already here for our training session. I go inside, and after quickly changing into my gym top and shorts, I enter my workout room, where Max has already laid the mats out on the floor.
“Mia, great, you’re here. Okay, let’s start off with the usual warmup, then we will carry on with where we left off last week.”
Tonight’s session is intense. The punch bag gets its stuffing knocked out of it, and Max ends up with a bleeding nose.
“I’m so sorry, Max. I don’t know what happened. I got carried away.”
“Don’t worry, I have had much worse. You’ve been great tonight—powerful and extremely quick to react. You even caught me off guard.”
My heart is racing, and I’m sweating head to toe. I’ve just about gotten rid of my frustration when I see Marco standing in the doorway.
“I think I’m done for today. Thanks, Max.”
Max throws me my towel and holds his hand out for a high five.
“Same time next week. Be careful, Mia.” He nods towards Marco.
“I’ll be fine. I can handle him.” I smile.
After greeting Marco, Max leaves.
I walk straight past Marco in the doorway and head upstairs and put the shower on.
“Mia, will you come to dinner with me, please?”
I can hear the strain in this voice. He’s not used to asking nicely for people to do things.
“No, and get out of my bathroom.”
Marco steps further in and closes the door behind him.
“Arrghh! Why are you so impossible?”
Smirking, he puts the lid down on my toilet and takes a seat. The toilet seat makes a loud cracking sound before the it buckles under his weight, causing him to fall to the side. He quickly catches himself, and I can’t but help laugh. He stands up and looks at what he’s done, then rips off the broken top, leaving just the seat.
“I’ll get a new one fitted tomorrow,” he grumbles,
“Just leave before you do any more damage.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you agree to have dinner with me.”
“Why? Why, Marco, is it so important that I have dinner with you tonight?”
Rubbing his bristled jaw with his hand, he answers. “Lorenzo has something else up his sleeve. I’m sure of it. You have an intuition about these things.”
“Let me get this straight. You, the head of the Guerra, want a woman’s help.”
“No, not help. A discussion, with you,” he disagrees firmly.
Marco looks troubled. He isn’t his usual together self.
“Fine, but get out of my house so I can get ready. Pick me up in an hour.”
In one hour exactly, Marco knocks on my front door. I’m ready and waiting, so I open the door immediately. Greeted with a side view of Marco while he checks our surroundings, I take in his appearance. He looks incredibly handsome tonight. His hair and beard have been freshly cut, and his facial hair accentuates his square jawline. Wearing his usual attire of a custom-fit black suit, he somehow looks different tonight. Maybe it’s the large gin and tonic I had while I was getting ready.
When he does turn to me, his eyes are wide. “You look incredible, Mia.”
A blush fills my face and I feel a little surprised by my reaction.
“Oh, this old thing.” I brush off his compliment and walk around him to the car. Feeling his eyes on my new skintight leather skirt and red corset top, I hear a growl sound from within him, which makes me smile. “I take it we are going in the Ferrari?” When I spin round to look at him, his eyes are on my bum.
Smirking, he moves his eyes up to mine. “You like red and power. I thought you’d appreciate it.”
That I do. He opens the door for me, and I climb into the beautiful interior. As we set off down the driveway, I notice the guards following behind us in their SUV.
As soon as we leave the driveway, Marco accelerates. The G-force instantly pushes my whole body against the soft leather seat. The roar of the engine vibrates through every part of me. Butterflies of excitement build in my stomach. Marco has never looked so powerful. If I could physically get out of my seat, I would devour him right now. Catching me looking at him, his face turns primal.
“Hold that thought. There will be plenty of time for that later,” he groans.
Marco parks right in front of the restaurant doors, over the yellow no-parking lines, because why wouldn’t he. The two guards assigned to me appear behind us. They enter the restaurant while we wait outside, and once they have made sure it’s clear, they hold the doors open for us.
“I’ll take it from here,” Marco instructs as he waves them away and puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me inside.
The restaurant is busy, but we are lead through to the private dining area in the back. Heads turn and watch us walk through the restaurant.
The private area is dimly lit with lots of candles. Classical music plays quietly in the background.
“This is all very romantic, Marco. I thought this was to discuss business?”
“It is. This is just how the private room is.”
“That’s a relief. I had visions of you getting down on one knee,” I joke.
Marco just stares at me, clearly not finding it funny.
Once we have ordered and I have my glass of wine, Marco begins to talk about Lorenzo. “There’s something else that I just can’t put my finger on.”
“How do you mean?” I inquire, as I have my own thoughts on this too.
“He must have known what our reaction would be after the raids. Of course we would retaliate.”
“I agree.”
“So, what do you think his endgame is?” Annoyance fills his face as he swirls the ice around his glass of whiskey.
“It could be several things. But what he will want is power and control. Which you have. We need to keep our eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. What is currently going on could all still be a distraction. Something to take your attention off what is really happening. But then again, he could just be that stupid and thought he could legally take down the Guerra.”
“Maybe, but my gut is telling me otherwise.” After downing the last of his drink, he presses the buzzer for the waiter.
He comes in immediately with a fresh round of drinks.
“You need to be careful, Marco. You need extra protection. Get more guards for yourself.”
“I can protect myself, and I have Van.”
Rolling my eyes, I pick up my fresh glass of wine. It’s cold, crisp, and fruity, and it’s going to my head. “Please, Marco. Just until this with Lorenzo is over.”
“I’ll speak to Van.” He dismisses that conversation and changes the subject to my animals.
While we eat our dinner, I update Marco on the dogs’ latest antics and my future plans for the sanctuary. It’s strange how comfortable and easy it is to speak to Marco. I have known Marco all my life, but we’ve spoken more in these past couple of hours than we have in our lifetime. Funny how you can know someone all this time but never really know them at all. He’s actually got a good sense of humour.
While Marco settles the bill, I visit the ladies’ room. Sitting and doing my business, I think about my evening with Marco. Something has changed between us. It’s hard to believe the man I have just had dinner with is the same man I have seen disembowel men with his bare hands.
I’m just finishing up when I hear the door open and the quiet sobs of a woman. As I’m unlocking the door, a man enters the bathroom.
“Sarah!” he shouts, along with a lot of obscenities.
Deciding I don’t want to walk out into the middle of a domestic, I hang back for a moment, hoping they will take their argument outside. But listening to the man criticise and verbally attack this woman who just continues to break her heart has me furious.
As I open the door of my cubical, the man has his fist raised about to hit the woman. Obviously used to this kind of attack, the woman covers her face with her hands. Bolting out, I grab the man’s fist before it makes contact. Twisting the man’s arm around his back, I kick the inside of his knee so he buckles to the floor. The weasel of a man cries out in pain.
Still holding his arm to the brink of dislocation, I pull his hair with my other hand, bringing his ear to my mouth. “Don’t you ever hurt a woman.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he spits.
Dragging him up by his hair and arm, I smash his nose into the sink before lifting his head to look at me through the mirror. “My name is Mia Alboni, and I am your worst nightmare.”
I let him drop to the floor, then stand on his balls with my stilettos. His scream can no doubt be heard for miles.
In the mirror, I see Marco in the doorway, leaning against door frame. He’s got his arms folded and a very satisfied smile on his face.
“I came to see if you needed a hand, but I see you have everything under control.” There’s amusement in his voice. “Come on, I better get you home before you cause any more trouble.”
As I leave with Marco, I hear the man mutter under his breath. “Bitch.”
Marco obviously hears him, too, as he spins straight around to re-enter the bathroom. He picks him up by his neck and slams his face into the mirror. Holding it into the broken glass, he calmly explains, “Nobody insults a Guerra, and nobody insults my woman.”
The sink breaks with the force of the man's head. If he would have just kept his mouth shut and let us leave, he would still be alive. But Marco cannot let the Guerra be disrespected, no matter how small the insult.
Once Marco has ordered the cleanup, we get back in the Ferrari. I feel instantly excited as soon as my body sinks into the seat, the roar of the engine vibrating through my core. Marco wears a proud expression as he puts his foot down, setting off on our way. Once again, the G-force pushes me further into my seat. I put my hand on Marco’s large thigh, gently squeezing in anticipation. Sexual tension builds between us. He again accelerates.
We are on a long stretch of tree-lined road, and it’s late, so there are no other cars on it. The odd streetlamp and moonlight give just enough light to see the curves ahead.
“I love this car,” I admit.
“I love you in this car,” he replies as he slams on the brakes, almost giving me whiplash.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he pulls off to the side of the road.
“I can’t wait any longer.”
Dragging my head towards him, he slams his lips against mine. He’s desperate for me, and me for him.