Chapter 19
Donatello
Danger.
I’d been involved in aspects of danger since I was a teenager.
What I hadn’t told Emmeline was that I hadn’t been an innocent kid in the deaths of my parents.
At least not entirely. My father had likely been protecting me, fighting for my safety and for me to come to my senses.
After their murders, I’d had to take my brother into hiding, keeping us safe from the very criminals I’d pledged my allegiance to.
How ironic that I’d forsaken my family by engaging in acts of criminal activity all to prove my allegiance to a monstrous organization. I’d been forced to leave Italy or face either imprisonment or death, only to engage in the same basic activities that had torn my family apart.
What did they call it? A found family?
That’s what I’d had from the day Baptiste Prince had caught me stealing from him. He’d had the easy choice of having one of his soldiers to take me someone private, driving a bullet into my brain, and dumping my body in the Gulf of Mexico. No one would have been the wiser.
Except my younger brother.
Instead, he’d taken pity on me, at least by allowing me to remain alive.
The rest of the story had been true, other than leaving out the horrific deeds I’d been trained for and held responsible for handling over the years. Nothing too heinous at first, remaining one of Baptiste’s bodyguards when he went anywhere.
However, if push came to shove, it was my job to step in front of the bullet meant for the powerful patriarch. And I’d proven my worth several times and had scars to prove it.
Incidents that Emmeline likely had no knowledge of.
What lingered in my mind and would for a long time was that I hadn’t been with Baptiste on the day he’d been gunned down outside the restaurant. If I had, I was certain the man would still be alive. My guilt was compounded by knowing just how close Emmeline had been with her father.
Little had she known, she’d been in more danger over the years than she had any true understanding of.
Baptiste had learned to confide in me over the years.
Not because he’d expected me to have answers to his issues, but so that he could feel confident sharing his fears and trepidations freely without fear of being labeled weak.
Powerful men who wanted to keep their kingdoms were never allowed to display weakness of any kind. I’d been made aware of several extortion and kidnapping attempts, even when three rival families had come to Baptiste with proposals for alliances to keep violence at a minimum.
Including the marriage of the beloved Prince daughter to some moronic thug.
Those had been the only times I’d expressed my obvious anger. At first with physical reactions, which Baptiste had noticed. Then when asked my thoughts, I’d let him know exactly what I’d thought.
With various animated, nasty words.
I remembered him laughing, telling me I’d make a fine husband one day.
Why the thought was sticking in my mind I had no idea. Along with knowing we were both in significant danger, I felt the same guilt I’d experienced when Baptiste had been shot and killed.
Being in this position was my fault.
Mine alone.
I had a bad taste in my mouth and an utter determination to get us the hell out of this mess.
No matter what I had to do.
First things first.
Get to the airport.
At least with the weapons the assassins had used, we had enough firepower to keep us safe.
As long as the motherfuckers didn’t send an army after us.
That also remained to be seen. The men had been very organized.
I’d had a fleeting thought they hadn’t known my identity until the pilot had gone missing.
Maybe that’s one reason so many of them had been sent.
My reputation was being able to handle myself in very precarious positions was well known.
The pilot hadn’t answered my calls and I’d stopped trying. It was entirely possible he was hiding, incapable of answering his phone and to continue trying would only place his life in harm’s way.
Forced to use Uber, which wasn’t the best idea, I was further reminded that I’d placed our lives in the utmost treachery. There was no backup or protection. We could be sitting ducks.
If the pilot was alive, the issue with the passports could be handled. If not, I couldn’t fly a goddamn plane and we wouldn’t be able to get on a commercial flight for several reasons.
Moving anywhere outside the country was a no go without decent planning, which we’d yet to have time to do. I hadn’t even made the time to contact Alexander and wouldn’t until we were either safely on the plane or found another way of getting the hell out of the city.
That’s when things would get dicey. We’d need backup and the timing to get soldiers here would give a huge window for the enemies to hunt and kill.
I would not allow that to happen.
“The pilot is dead. Isn’t he?” Emmeline asked, keeping her voice down.
“We don’t know that.” I glanced out the window, shifting my gaze from one side of the vehicle to the other. While the driver didn’t seem to be paying attention, I wasn’t taking any chances. We could trust no one.
There was no doubt in my mind that the five assassins weren’t the only ones. Whoever had planned the attack had covered all the bases. They would attack again.
There’d been no time to search the streets for a possible getaway vehicle. For all I knew, the assassins had come on foot from a distance, others lingering in the shadows.
The driver had just turned on a side street when a civil police car flew by with their lights on. While there was no way of knowing the police had been called to the rental house, my gut told me they had.
I turned toward her, also keeping my voice low. “Come avete fatto ad affittare la casa?”
How did you rent the house?
In using Italian, I hoped to avoid the driver catching any additional details.
Her eyes opened wide. “In linea.”
Online.
Nodding, I glanced toward the driver again. He still wasn’t paying any attention.
“Staremo bene.”
We’ll be okay.
Although I had my doubts.
“Mi dispiace. Non avrei mai voluto che succedesse.”
I’m sorry. I never intended for this to happen.
The air was warm, yet she was shivering in the seat next to me. In all the years of swearing my allegiance and my loyalty to the family, and with the friendships I’d developed with various members of the family, I’d never felt so close to anyone as I did with Emmeline.
While she’d held her own in the horrific fight, becoming a trained warrior as necessary, she’d never appeared as vulnerable as she did right now.
Just watching her cleaning off the blood angered me.
Why should she be forced to deal with monsters while trying to free herself of the chains she wore given her family?
There were no comforting words, no magical thing to say to ease the anxiety.
I gripped her chin with my thumb and forefinger, mesmerized for a few seconds by the sight of her eyes in the flashing commercial lights of the city.
“Non hai fatto nulla di male, dolce principessa. Meriti di goderti la vita.”
You did nothing wrong, sweet princess. You deserve to enjoy your life.
With her eyelids half closed, her long lashes skimming across her cheeks, she appeared comforted by my touch.
A few seconds later, she tugged on my hand, pulling my knuckles to her mouth.
While everything about the woman was sensual, this moment was far more intimate than the embroiled passion we’d shared.
“I want you to know how much I appreciate you being here.” Switching back to English, she kept her voice low, even darting her eyes toward the front seat. “You’ve always been my hero.”
“No, I haven’t.”
She pressed her lips against my fingers before pulling my hand under her neck. I noticed that her lower lip was trembling and I wanted to rip the men who’d dared hurt her apart limb from limb. If only I’d taken more time to kill the motherfuckers.
Her laugh was nothing like I’d heard over the last two days, the inflection full of sadness. The last thing I wanted was for her to abandon either her resolve or her zest for life. “Yes, you have. I’ve seen you watching me. Following me.”
“You called it stalking.”
“Yes, I did. Don’t you know that every woman has the desire to have a handsome stalker? That’s one of her greatest fantasies.”
Even during the shit storm we were in, I was able to laugh. “Is that so? Now you have me curious what other fantasies there might be.”
She offered a salacious look before sliding her hand around my neck, pulling my head down so she could whisper in my ear. “Having a masked man break into her home, tie her up, and have his way with her.”
I hadn’t been certain what to expect. That wasn’t it.
Emmeline certainly had a way of breaking the ice with anyone at any time. Or putting men in their place. Just something else to adore about her.
When the driver made a turn I hadn’t expected, I immediately bristled. We were close to the airport, but he’d turned in the opposite direction of the private field.
I pulled the weapon into my hand, leaning forward in the backseat. “Caminho errado.”
Wrong way.
Thank fucking God I’d learned Portuguese.
While I tried to keep my tone even and devoid of anger, I had a feeling the man in the driver’s seat knew I was on edge about something.
“O aeroporto fica logo à frente, senhor.”
The airport is just ahead, sir.
I’d done my best over the years to hone my instincts and learn to follow them. Without emotions. Without being judgmental. Just blocking out everything for the split second needed before making what could be the wrong decision.
Not in this case. The car was small enough I was able to see him reaching under his seat. That’s the moment I snapped, allowing my gut to take over. A split second later, I had the barrel of the weapon pressed against the back of his head.
“Você vai dar a volta e nos levar para o outro lado.”