Page 67 of Sinfully Owned

"Unbelievable," Carlotta growled after she hung up.

I could only agree with her. The whole affair had been incredible.

I squeezed Gia's hand and made sure we got back to the villa as quick as possible. After dropping Carlotta off there, we drove to my apartment, because I wasn't going to take care of Gia under my brother's disparaging gaze.

19

Gia

Istill couldn't believe that Dario had shown up in time. Not even when I was sitting in the kitchen of his apartment and could be sure that I was no longer exposed to any danger. Vincenzo had called to inform him they had made the S-Class disappear and the whole motel had blown up– because of some old gas pipes that the public utilities had never disconnected.

Whether I should believe that or whether it was just the friendly version remained to be seen. I was just glad to have escaped alive from this nightmare. Again. Death had knocked on my door and somehow I had escaped himagain.

I should have cried with joy for that alone, but all that went through my mind was the realization of how this situation felt to me. As if I had a glass full of happiness– which was losing more and more of it through a thin crack, until I was desperately trying to pick it up and fill it back into said glass.

Somehow I always had success with it, but I could seldom be happy about it.

Before my eyes I still had the images that had marked the day. The exploding car. The body I had stumbled over after Dario had pushed me back into the room for my protection. The gunshots still echoed in my ears, as did the roar of the men and the threats of the Frenchman.

At some moments, I could still feel the cool barrel of the gun against my temple. No matter how often I tried to take a deep breath and pull myself together, the experiences of the last few hours always regained the upper hand.

And then there was Carlotta. Carlotta, who had not only convinced me with her performance but also made it look so easy to point a gun at a man and fire it. Every step Dario's sister had taken, I had seen in her how much she cared about this life. It was a part of her. Just like that.

Even during our escape from the motel, she had been having discussions in the backseat while I had been in shock, trying to keep myself together to not cry.

And after Dario had dropped her off at the villa and handed her over to Emilio's care, she had never for a second appeared to be shocked.

So why was it so hard for me to digest all the things that had happened today? When it could be so simple

I raised my eyes when Dario put a glass down in front of me. It was only two fingers' breadths full, so I assumed it was alcohol. Without saying anything I reached for it and downed the contents without batting an eye. It was only a few heartbeats later that the familiar burning sensation in my throat and stomach set in.

With a raised eyebrow, Dario had observed my behavior and now dropped onto a chair opposite me, shaking his head.

His hair was still dripping, so I assumed he had also gotten in the shower after I had finished and retreated to the kitchen.

There was so much blood. Blood I had washed out of my hair and off my skin, not to mention my clothes, which were beyond saving. I had wrapped myself in one of Dario's shirts and put on a pair of his sweatpants, but it still didn't make me feel much better.

I didn't even know what was worst that day. The failed escape? The kidnapping? The fact that the Frenchman's skull had exploded right behind me? The dead body? The explosion? The screams of the burning men that no one but me seemed to have noticed? There were so many things, and yet it was the total package that wouldn't let me go.

Again and again I had to remind myself that Dario had saved me. He had come to free me, had even remembered I hadn't wanted to see any blood and certainly no dying people. In the end there was no way around it, but the attempt to protect me from it

I lifted my eyes from my empty glass and looked at Dario, who had been silent the whole time. Because there was nothing to say, or because he was waiting for me to say something?

I tilted my head, having to laugh at my statement before I even uttered it. "I'm not moving back into this apartment."

Dario shrugged his shoulders. "We'll find a new one."

"I want a security system. One that won’t ever fail."

"No problem."

"And I want you to teach me how to use a gun."

"Anything you want,micina."

"Then while we're at it, you might as well teach me how to handle this shit better. Like Carlotta. She didn’t seem to have trouble sleeping."

"Carlotta is not a good example." For the first time in this conversation, he disagreed with me. "But I understand what you're getting at."

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