Page 44 of His Vicious Vow
Nodding, I hug her tight then get out before I beg her to take me back. Not back to Carlo’s but to Sandro. Waving goodbye, I watch until they disappear. I blink and tears fall.
No crying. This is what has to happen. In a few weeks Sandro will forget about me. He already didn’t text me last night to talk to me. I wasn’t hurt by him not texting. I was glad. It reminded me what was happening wasn’t love. It’s what we had to be because we’re both forced into marriage. He didn’t want this either, he told me the first day. Now he could pick someone he did want.
Wheeling the carry-on behind me I straighten my back and head inside. I wince as I notice Celia had me in economy. Economy for more than fourteen hours? No way, not happening. A few taps on my frequent flier account and I’m upgraded to business class and in a window seat. I’m a little annoyed there’s someone beside me but I try to remind myself all that matters is I have leg room in a lay flat seat.
It takes forever to get through security. My heart pounds in my chest so hard it hurts when I hand over the passport and ID. Thank god for the lazy guy who clearly is just matching up the ID and ticket without even looking at me. I almost collapse in relief once I’m through it all. By the time I find my gate it’s only a half hour until takeoff. I use the restroom because restrooms on planes are humiliating when you’re fat.
There’s a tall, thin, gray-haired man complaining to the flight attendant that he doesn’t have the window seat. Of course he’s talking about my window seat. He stares through me and flicks me a look of disgust when I sit down beside him. I pretend I don’t see it—I’m used to pretending I don’t see the look.
I tuck the cell phone away until we’re in the air and permission is given for phones to be used. Now is the time to find somewhere to stay. This might be a burner phone but at least it has internet access. Deciding against a hotel I look for a short-term rental. I’m not in love with the idea of staying in Florence, it’s too big but I have always wanted to visit the Duomo and the Uffizi. It will be a good place to stay while I figure out where I’m going.
While the twenty grand is nice, it’s less than half of what I saved and won’t last long. Crap there isn’t a huge amount to choose from and some seem too cheap—in a scary way. I go online to see what area is recommended then back to the website to find rentals in the area the site said. There’s a two bedroom within walking distance of the Duomo and the Uffizi. Even though I don’t need a two bedroom, it’s the only one in the area and the price is less than half the normal price and only slightly higher than what I was hoping to spend. I book it.
I’m surprised by the almost instant message three minutes later. The owner doesn’t live in Florence. The keys are with the owner of the shop below the flat. I tell him thanks not sure what else I should say.
I stay awake long enough to eat the yummy dinner. Then I lay the seat flat and curl up facing the window. Closing my eyes, Sandro’s beautiful face is taunting me with those sapphire blue eyes glowing. No. This is for him as much as me. He’ll be grateful in the end.
* * *
Sandro
Milos is tense.
“Your wife interfered between me and my woman.” I fight the urge to become violent. “You interfered between me and my woman. You didn’t tell me about the tracker you have in Carina. I told you that you watching over my woman ended the day I arrived in Chicago.”
An eyebrow goes up. “You gave my woman no choice. Nothing you have done alleviated Carina’s fear of this marriage. Carina is safe. One of my men is on the flight with her. Valdez is getting a man in place to pick her up when she lands. If the time came I was assured you would treat Carina well, I would have given you the tracking information.”
Anger flares through me. “Carina needs me and she wants me. She won’t admit to it because she’s afraid of giving up control. There’s also the fact she could be pregnant now. I will not stand for anyone keeping me from my woman and my child.”
The bastard chuckles. He presses a button on his phone for speaker then hits speed dial. Valdez answers. “Give Alessandro Leonetti full access to Carina Parker’s tracker information. I’m removing myself from access.”
Valdez clears his throat. “Thank you. Again, I apologize Mr. Leonetti.”
Swallowing my words of frustration. “It’s fine. Put two people on her for protection. As soon as I’m in the air I’ll head straight for…where is she going?” I ask Milos.
“Florence Italy. She has a layover in Germany that will allow you to get there before her.”
“I’m getting confirmation now. She’s booked into a short-term rental in Florence. Good area. And even better the property owner has another flat, same building available for rental.” Valdez pipes up.
“Book it.” I tell him. The moment Valdez hangs up. I nod at Milos. “The same way you got Celia as your wife. Do you think you could fix it up for me with Carina? I’m not bringing her back to Chicago. I’m taking her with me to Vegas.”
A corner of his mouth tips up. “I can arrange it. Consider it a wedding gift. Your marriage date will be today. And as far as anyone will know you and Carina are in Italy for your honeymoon. You could not wait another day. There was a rumor Carlo wasn’t sure about the marriage so you stole her away before he could change his mind. Anything else and everyone looks bad in the end. I will handle Carlo.”
I nod. He’s right. This way we all save face. I call my pilot to let him know we need to refuel and file the flight plan to Florence.
“While you’re at it, can you please pack up her life and have it sent to Vegas for me?” I ask as I stand.
“Not a problem she did the hard part of packing up most of her life and putting it in storage. It will all be in Vegas by the time you two get back.”
Leaving his office I call Cassandra and tell her to pack a suitcase for Carina and have it sent immediately to the commuter airport so I have something when I retrieve Carina.
I shove down the anger at Carina seething within me for thinking she could get away from me. I told her, she’s mine. I’m not letting her go, not now—not ever. And when I get my hands on her, she’ll regret running so much she’ll never, ever do it again.
* * *
Carina
I’m woken by the flight attendant with the warning we’ll be landing in three hours with the question of do I want breakfast in less than an hour. I thank her and tell her yes.