Page 62 of She Belongs to Me
All black with a metal black band, diamonds crystallizing the face. A stunning piece and no doubt over fifty grand.
He noticed me looking at it and grinned. “A gift from my father. Are you a tourist?”
“No, a guest for a month or so. A respite for hard work this past year.”
“Ah. Who are you visiting?”
Now he was digging and the red flags were raised. I was squirming, trying to figure out how best to handle this situation. “No one you’d know. No one famous or fabulous. Just a friend from college.”
“The best kind.”
I hadn’t noticed Isabella had suddenly appeared, but when I did, I could see she was fuming. She manhandled him, literally jerking him to his feet by his shirt.
She threw out sentence after sentence in Italian, likely accusations, so fast I couldn’t catch a single word.
He tried to act like some lovesick puppy dog. Even I knew that had been a stupid thing to do. When he dared touch her, she used both hands to shove him aside. Suddenly, the pudgy man was back, getting into the fray while the other customers were gawking.
She remained spitting mad, pointing to the door. The mystery guy tried to argue and that was the moment I noticed the outline of a weapon under his expensive polo.
Shit. Who the hell was this man?
Finally, two more burly waiters pushed the unwanted mystery man toward the door. I noticed he was with a party of his own, three ginormous guys who didn’t look too happy being tossed out of the restaurant.
One of them had a horrific scar.
From a knife.
I knew that well. I’d had a course in the injuries various weapons could make. The guy likely had issues with his vision.
And what did I care at this point?
“I’m sorry, Ms. Marciano. I won’t allow that bastard and his ugly group to bother you ever again.”
Poor Guido. He looked at her as if she was going to kill him.
She had her hands planted on her hips, immediately pulling out her phone and continuing to speak Italian. I realized seconds later she’d called one of her men, both rushing inside.
“I’m sorry, Alexandra. We should cut this short.”
Should or needed to? There was a sense of urgency to her voice, almost a slice of fear but definitely anger. The two six-foot five-inch dudes stood right in front of our table. There was no doubt they were packing.
I wasn’t certain what had occurred, but she was flustered as hell. I hadn’t expected that from her at all.
“Let’s not allow the asshole to spoil our fun. But we need to go back.”
Yes, the sense of urgency was strong. “Of course.”
As soon as we walked outside, the men Nico had required come with us were also right there, escorting us to our car. All four of what I’d call soldiers were scanning the street. What in God’s name were they expecting to find?
The men from before.
They were afraid we’d be ambushed.
With both of us safely nestled in the car, she took off. Only this time, one of the dark SUVs was in front of us, one behind. They weren’t taking any chances.
I remained floored, trying to keep from panicking myself when I had no idea who the guy was.
We were out of the city before she finally took a deep breath.