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Until a group of guys pass, joking with each other. I’m looking at the street for our car and then suddenly one of the passing men is shoved into me. I almost fall over, but catch myself. The man doesn’t apologize.
Mark shifts his body in front of mine as his guards close around him. One of my guards arrives next to Mark, but the other two of my men are on the guy in a flash yelling in Spanish. The man yells some obscenities and racial slurs in response. I’m not sure, but I think he calls me a whore. There’s some spitting. That’s the last straw, apparently, because all hell breaks loose. Then it’s just arms and grunts and yelling all around us. The three men and my two guards have an all-out brawl on the sidewalk.
“Fucking mafiosos.” Mark sighs under his breath. He barely flinches as this crazy scene unfolds. At one point, he gives anI’m-sorry-about-thissmile to a group trying to pass.
I flinch when I hear a bone crunch. I’m guessing it’s not a bone belonging to anyone on my father’s payroll. Mark is blocking me somewhat with his tall body just in front of me, I guess, but it’s Raul who has his arms backward braced around me like a shield. It’s Raul who senses me flinch and moves closer.
I still don’t react well when guards get close to me. My mind creates smells and sounds that aren’t there. My pulse picks up even more. I know I need the protection, but I wish the mafia had female guards.
Mark turns and whistles loudly, pointing to our cars that have just pulled up. My guards dissolve the fight and move toward the street. The secret service agents herd Mark and me into the car.
“Get us out of here, Ric. They’ll catch up.” Mark says with what could be urgency but sounds a lot more like annoyance.
“Sí,Boss.”
He looks over at me, as if remembering I exist. “You all right?”
I nod. “I’m fine.”
Mark nods and then retreats into his phone. Case closed.
I stare out the window and fight back tears, swiping my finger over the base of my neck again and again. It’s not calming me like it normally does.
I don’t care about being shoved.
I don’t mind being called names, even being spat at.
But any Made man in the whole universe, at hearing someone call their fiancée a whore, would’ve gone nuclear. Even if he didn’t love his fiancée or like her. It’s a matter of their principles, their respect, and their passion.
Mark doesn’t respect me.
He is clearly not a passionate person. In fact, after tonight, I wonder about all those dates he went on, he probably didn’t even sleep with them. He said I wouldn’t want what he could give. Maybe he’s asexual. Or gay. Although, I have caught him looking at me and other women. Legs, ass,my ass for sure, and sometimes cleavage. He’s subtle about it, but he looks.
But to actually have sex? I mean, that might muss up his perfect hair. He just seems…above it all. Aloof or annoyed. Or faking it, depending on the surroundings.
For him to just stand there with his guards around him while other men fought in front of me, about me, I can’t believe that. But I guess now, I can. Defending my honor might wrinkle his suit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him even take off his jacket.
I sigh so heavily I wonder if my lungs will bounce back to breathe some air back in. They do. At least Luna will be pleased. Because my hopes are not sky high anymore.
I’m not sure I even have any left.
CHAPTER 8
Mark
It’s like I’m gasping for air the second the partition is up. I wait for the added security, even though I’m just texting.
Mark: This needs to move faster. A lot fucking faster.
Van: Patience, brother
Mark: If you were in my shoes, you’d be punching walls and strangling randoms on the street.
Van: I could never fit into your girly little shoes.
Gialo: BURN
Mark: Why do I bother with you fuckers
