Chapter 20
Evelyn
“Istill don’t want to go to Colombia,” I tell Massimo honestly on our way to the airport the next morning, as though I can somehow convince him to turn the SUV around and take me…
Where? Where do I want to go?
Not back to Stefano Duarte’s home, the heart of a dangerous cartel.
Not back to the shabby, cramped apartment I shared with George in Mexico City.
Back to Albuquerque? Where I don’t have any friends, my family doesn’t care about me, and the future I envisioned with George is in ruins?
I’m adrift, without a home or a safe haven.
I feel like the only safe place for me is in Massimo’s arms, but he’s in the mafia. That’s insane.
“Don’t ask me to let you go,” he says, a low warning. He slings his arm over me, pulling me closer. “You’re staying with me. I thought we agreed last night. You’re mine.”
Mine.
My heart squeezes as I remember the way he made me feel when he tied me to his bed and marked me as his.
With George, I’d constantly sought his affection and approval.
Massimo lavishes me with affection, even when I protest. And he’s so generous with his praise that I don’t know how to handle all of the positive affirmations and compliments.
“I don’t want…” I stop myself before I say that I don’t want him to let me go.
All of the trauma and heartache must be breaking my mind. A mafioso is about to take me to meet with a cartel boss in Colombia, and I don’t want to leave him.
It might be insane, but I can’t deny my conflicted feelings for him.
“I know you’ll keep me safe,” I say instead. “But I don’t want to go to Colombia. I don’t want anything to do with the cartels.”
He shrugs. “It’s just business, dolcezza. You don’t need to worry about any of that. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”
Before I can formulate another protest, he cups my breast in a brazen caress.
“Massimo!” I try to squirm away, mortified. We were in the backseat of the SUV, and the driver will be able to see him touching me if he glances in the rearview mirror.
“You don’t need to worry about anything, Evelyn. I’ll take care—”
“Massimo!” I scream his name in the moment before the van smashes into the side of our SUV.
Tires screech, glass shatters, and pain explodes through my skull.
The world wavers around me, and my head aches. I shake it to clear away the ringing in my ears, but it doesn’t quite work. I blink, willing everything to stop spinning.
I cry his name again when I see the blood covering his beautiful face. His stunning eyes are closed, and his powerful body is slumped in the seat. The impact was on his side of the SUV, and he’s taken the worst of the collision.
Before I can reach for him, the car door is wrenched open beside me, and rough hands grab me. Strange men drag me out of the ruined SUV, away from Massimo, who is terribly still.
Is he breathing?
He can’t be dead. He can’t be.
I scream for him and twist against the iron hold of the men who are taking me away from the wreck.
“Calm down, you dumb bitch,” one of them barks.
“Let me go,” I insist, struggling to get back to Massimo.
We’re nearing an unmarked white van—not an emergency response vehicle.
“Who are you?” I demand, a fresh burst of fear punching my chest.
“We’re friends of your fiancé. He asked us to get you back for him. He didn’t say in what condition.”
I begin fighting like a wildcat, mindless with terror. George sent these men, and they aren’t with the DEA. They’ll take me back to him, and he’ll kill me to keep his corruption secret.
But I’m not strong enough to resist my captors, not powerful like my dark protector.
Massimo.
All that blood on his beautiful face…
I scream and kick, fighting to get back to him.
One of my assailants curses, and my world flashes white with a burst of pain across my cheek. He heaves my sagging body through the open door of the van, sealing my fate.
As soon as that door closes, I’m as good as dead.