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Rosa throws her hands up, then starts fidgeting with her hair. It hurts me to cause her pain, which I’m clearly doing.
She doesn’t understand. Emma is going to give Rosa little brothers and sisters one day, and Rosa wants to risk that? No, dammit. I’ve got to picture Rosa’s face if she ever found out—the tears, the betrayal. I can’t think about anything else, but I’m not putting Emma at risk, either.
“Uncle D?” she says, turning to Dario.
We’re in the living room, Dario’s forearms resting on his knees, flicking through the channels on the TV. “This is between you and your dad.”
“Is it true? Would the Russians really go after her?”
“This isn’t y—”
“Dad,”she cuts me off. “I get it. This isn’t my business. That’s normally true, but itismy business when discussing my best friend.”
Dario arches his eyebrow at me, smirking as if to say,Like mother, like daughter.
“It’s true,” I tell her. “There’s a chance. I’m not sure how high. It depends on what the Russians know about your friendship. Maybe nothing, but yes, there’s a chance.”
“And you want to keep her safe?”
I nod way too fiercely. My balls are aching just thinking about Emma, how her legs looked in those jeans, her feet tucked under that big, juicy ass. I can imagine her whole body rippling as I fuck her, claim her, own her—rippling just for me. I massage my forehead. I can’t think like this.
“She’s your friend,” I say after a pause. “What do you want me to do?”
“What if you gave her a security team?”
Dario shakes his head before she’s done asking.
“What?” Rosa demands.
“Resources, my lovely, polite niece,” he says. “This house is already protected. To assign four more men…”
“Are things that bad?” Rosa asks.
“You don’t need to worry,” I tell her. “We’re handling it.”
“Dad—”
“I said we’re handling it. She’s staying. That’s it.”
“And if she tries to leave?”
I stand and stride for the door. “Dario, we’ve got things to do. I love you, Rosa, but there are some things you don’t understand.”
As soon as I leave the townhouse, my guards flank me. We walk to the large SUV—bulletproof—and climb into the back. Dario sighs and taps his fingernail against his watch face.
“Wonder if he’s bled out yet.”
“You enjoy this too much,” I say. “Why did you have to tell her about the guards?”
“Shit, this ismyfault?”
“She doesn’t need to hear all that.”
“She’s not a kid anymore. I know that’s hard for you to accept.”
I sigh darkly, staring out the window.
“Am I wrong?” he asks.
