Page 38 of Sinfully Loved

Vincenzo stared at me in disbelief. "I was wondering what possessed you to disappear like that without letting me know. I thought…"

I raised an eyebrow. What had he thought? Was it the infamous heart of Vincenzo de Archard that his sister had mentioned earlier?

"What did you think?"

"That something had happened to you or your father had showed up! I wonder why I gave you the phone if you don't even look at it!"

I pulled it out of my pocket, unlocked the display, and got not one but seventeen missed calls. Had someone been worried?

Amused, I looked at him. "Fiero picked me up. It's not like I was in danger of being murdered on the open road."

"It doesn't matter."

"It's not my fault that your brother neglected to inform you of his plans. Emilio made that decision."

"I've already shot the crap out of him for that, too."

Again I raised an eyebrow. What bothered him so much that he reacted like that? At no point had I felt unprotected. Natale and Fiero together made a formidable image, and if that wasn't enough, there were always firearms and years of experience.

Besides, it wasn't as if Vincenzo had wanted to accompany me to Naples to pick out a dress.

I felt a little anger rising in me, too. "You still have no right to act like that."

Vincenzo gave me a warning glare. These were probably words he rarely heard as a former mafia boss. Only that didn't give him the privilege of pushing me around and acting as if I had almost been murdered.

"Maybe you should have called Emilio first."

"I called you! And that should be enough. Not to mention that my office isn't five feet from the fucking front door, and you could have just given a quick shout. Or Fiero, for that matter."

"Sure, it's my fault you don't care about my presence otherwise! How about you take the stick out of your ass and realize that you can't make demands if you're not willing to make concessions yourself." Shaking my head, I stormed past him toward the stairs but didn't get far.

"This conversation is not over," he growled.

I hated that he didn't even have to get in my way for me to stop.

With a contorted face, I whirled around to face him, dropped the bag, and crossed my arms. "Oh no? What else do you want to talk about?"

"That you don't go out of the house without letting me know first."

"I'm a free woman, and I can do whatever I want," I shot back. "You don't think I'm stupid enough to expose myself to danger, do you?"

I wasn't used to traveling with a bodyguard, but even I knew that being married to a man like Vincenzo came with a few peculiarities.

The name alone created a particular – not always friendly – interest in the family members.

"You are my wife, and when I tell you-"

I snorted, interrupting him instantly. He wasn't going to play that card. Was he?

He couldn't be serious.

"Well, I've got great news for you, Vincenzo. You can't choose when to use that argument and when not to care." How did he envision this in the future? Was he going to send me a squad of bodyguards to look after my welfare?

He looked at me in disbelief. Was he at a loss for words? Or was he thinking of a devastating answer that would take the wind out of my sails?

I kept silent and waited, but he said nothing. To my shame, I could not even interpret the expression on his face correctly or attach it to any emotion.

Finally, I picked up my bag and walked away. The conversation was obviously over.