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“Yes, you did, and I am grateful.Thatis one of the reasons I am alive right now.”
I swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t take offence at my next words. “It’s just that you are part of that world. You and Rio both, Carlos. And I was afraid for my baby. I just had to get away. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
His eyes soften. “You speak the truth, my dear. Thisisoften a violent world. Unfortunately, the moment Rio kidnapped and then married you, you became part of it. And no matter how fast or how far you run, you will never escape it. Not anymore. Especially not now that you have brought his child into the world.”
I know how accurate that observation is. I’ve been going over that very fact in my head and seeing it play out in my own actions even before I could articulate it in a conscious manner. I am now locked in this life, and I don’t see how I can ever get out. Alive.
I jump to my feet, stumble over to one of the grand columns that marks the entrance to this alcove, and lean my back against the cool marble. I need to concentrate on breathing, slow and steady, to try and tamp down the underlying panic that threatens my surface calm.
The moment Emilia was born, something irrevocably changed.
Even if one day Rio and I decide to end our marriage, he will always be in my life as Emilia’s dad. Not an average soccer-on-weekends kind of dad, but still a father nonetheless.
I can never escape, no matter how much I may want to. The only way I can see to protect myself and my child from now on is to fully trust the one man I ran from.
Rio himself.
21
“We live in a fantasy world, a world of illusion. The great task in life is to find reality.”
Iris Murdoch
Rio
My concern risesafter the conversation with Martelli. He finally admitted to experiencing several similar business upheavals to the ones we’re having in Boston. I’m still not convinced it is not his outfit causing the issues.
But there was a look in his eyes—a genuine apprehension—that spoke of truth. Someone is out to upset the natural order and balance of our world.
So, when I reenter the ballroom and can’t see Bianca anywhere, my concern skyrockets and my breathing shortens.
Where is she? Has she run again? Is she safe?
I should not have brought her with me on this trip. What was I thinking?
Truth is, I wasn’t thinking. Not with my head, anyway. I never do when it comes to Bianca.
I pull my cell from my jacket pocket and am about to dial Danelli—to hell with Martelli’s fucking rule about no security except his own—when I spy my wife emerging from behind a column. She looks…shaken, for want of a better word.
Moments later, Rossi appears beside her. He pats her arm and then leaves her there alone. I barrel across the room. She looks up and sees me coming, flinching when I grab her elbow.
“What is it? Did he hurt you?”
She blinks a couple of times, possibly at the venom in my tone, and the distressed expression fades. She shoots me a crooked smile. “No, all good. He apologized, I apologized… All good.”
Clearly, she’s not okay. I’m done with this charade of an event. We need to get out of here.
“Time to leave, Bianca,” I announce, and keep my hand firmly on her elbow as I steer her toward the exit.
“Thank God,” she murmurs, and while we wait at the building entrance for a staff member to call for the car that will deliver us to the airport, she turns to face me and gives me a genuine smile this time. “I’ve been ready to leave since the moment we arrived. I can’t wait to get home.”
Warmth blooms in my chest, replacing the concern that had held my muscles tight.Home? “I like the sound of that word on your lips, little bird.”
“Which one?” she teases. “Leave?”
“You know which one.”
Whatever upset her in her conversation with Rossi, she seems to have thrown it off quickly. I will find out what they discussed, but not right now.
