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The tour guide finally jumps in, pointing at Natasha and releasing a long, loud stream of Italian words. I raise both hands in a pacifying gesture as the police swarm over Natasha and I, their guns pointing at us.
“Polizia! Alza le mani!”
Natasha grits her teeth, staring at me with murderous rage as she laces her fingers behind her dark curls. The police quickly cuff us both, but the tour guide is adamant enough to get me released within a couple of minutes. They pull Natasha to her feet and begin dragging her away.
“Let me go!” Natasha howls. “Keir and I are supposed to be together!”
“Looks like you won’t get away with it after all,” I say as I rub my wrists. Isla runs to me and I place a protective hand on her back. “I always win, Natasha. You’ve worked with me long enough to know that.”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.
“Fuck you, Keiran,” she hisses.
She doesn’t say anything else, though. No threats. No screaming for vengeance. She has to know it’s really over this time.
There will be reports to fill out and statements to give, but that can all wait until later. The only thing I care about right this minute is getting back to Isla and Ella.
CHAPTERTWO
ELLA
I stare blankly off into the distance, my hand on Isla’s little shoulder. She’s shaking, just as I was a few minutes ago. I’ve stopped shaking. But now I’m in shock, maybe.
There are too many emotions rushing through my head right now. I can’t seem to process any of them.
Actually, no.
That’s a lie.
I can definitely process one of those emotions. The anger is hitting me like a truck.
I’m angry with Natasha, obviously, but also with Keiran. I don’t realize quite how angry I am until he walks back over to where I’m huddled with his daughter. His dark head is bowed, his fingers brushing her bright copper curls back from her temple.
“We’re okay,” I say to her. I do my best to keep my voice steady even though I’m still freaking out on the inside. “See? The police are taking her away right now.”
Isla throws her arms around me and softly sobs against my shoulder. “How do we know she won’t come back?”
God, this poor kid. Her whole world has been turned upside down in the blink of an eye. She’s been traumatized—nearly killed—by someone she was supposed to be able to trust.
Yeah, this is going to stay with her for a long time. With me, too.
Keir scoops Isla up into his arms and hugs her.
“Natasha won’t be back,” he says without actually answering her question. “That’s all you need to know, okay? You won’t have to deal with her anymore.”
Isla frowns but doesn’t argue. She seems too tired and frightened to bicker at the moment.
But his answer makes me seethe. I suddenly realize just how much I blame Keir for what happened with Natasha. Not that I think he would intentionally put his daughter—or me, for that matter—in danger. Of course he wouldn’t.
He loves Isla. Hell, he probably cares about me in his own off-putting, asshole sort of way.
But that doesn’t change the fact that the situation with Natasha could have been avoided. Itshouldhave been avoided. If he had only listened to me when I told him that we couldn’t trust Natasha, I wouldn’t have ended up dangling off of a freaking building.
Keir nods toward the Colosseum exit. “We should go. There’s already going to be tons of paparazzi waiting for us, and it’s only going to get worse the longer we stay here.”
My jaw clenches. I’m trying to hold my tongue, if only for Isla’s sake. It’s a struggle to be quiet but I do my best.
The last thing this sweet girl needs is to see or hear me arguing with her oblivious, self-absorbed father.
