Silence again.
Determined to befriend them, she asked, “So…have you guys been working for Angelo long?”
The guards exchanged looks, thinking that this was the first woman their employer dated who hadn’t treated them like they were invisible.
“I’ve been with the boss for four years, signorina,” Fico offered.
“Five for me,” Umberto said.
“And how is it, working for him?” she asked curiously. “Because I was his student once last semester, and as a professor, he was very much easygoing.” She thought of how all the girls in her class had fallen for him, and she added glumly, “Too charming for his own good, too.”
Fico and Umberto struggled to hide their grins. They were used to the boss’ dates being jealous and possessive and had considered it unbecoming. But somehow, this little one was different.
“He is the same as a boss,” Fico said. “But he is also a perfectionist, signorina. He expects us to show the same dedication he does to his own work.”
“Can you tell me stories about him?” she asked eagerly.
“What kind of stories?”
“Any. Like, what does he do when you have to drive him and he’s all alone in the backseat?”
“Well…”
And so the bodyguards ended up taking the role of storyteller with the boss’ date as their eager and appreciative audience.
Lane giggled and gasped at their stories, and she was so entranced that she failed to hear the sound of incoming footsteps, failed to sense what her sixth sense was warning her about—
By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late.
Three men were heading their way. They were about Angelo’s age, all of them attractive, well-dressed, and completely intoxicated.
“Are you certain Valencia won’t mind?”
“We’re going to share with him the hottest little M in town. What’s there to complain about?”
“She cost us a pretty sum, too, so that girl better be worth every fucking dollar.”
The laughter that followed made Lane’s skin crawl.
“Fucking. Dollar. Get it?”
This time, all men laughed, and Lane wanted to throw up.
Her throat was tightening, and she could literally feel herself running out of oxygen.
She saw them and she didn’t see them, her mind shoved back into the past.
It was her first time to meet her grandfather, and he had told Lane he wanted to speak in private with Laura. So she had left them, standing obediently outside the door, fidgeting with excitement.
And when the waiting had become intolerable, she had giggled and tiptoed to the door, pressing her ear to it—
“Blow me, slut, and maybe, just maybe I’ll let you in my household. My daughter-in-law during the day, my whore at night—
When she opened her eyes, it was to find the three men staring at her, and she could see her grandfather in every one of them.
Her grandfather, one of his hometown’s wealthiest and most outstanding citizens—
Her grandfather, whose heart was as rotten as the pimps and prostitutes she had grown up with—
Her grandfather, who had been the first person in her life to use the word ‘slut’ in her presence—
One of them stepped forward, his lascivious gaze running over Lane’s curves. Without taking his eyes off her, he licked his lips and asked the guards, “Is she Angelo’s newest plaything?”
Fico and Umberto stiffened, both of them reluctant to answer the question. The truth was, all the women their employer had brought to the house had indeed been playthings. And while they wanted to think this new one was different—
The men started to crowd towards her.
I’m not going to panic, she told herself determinedly.
But then one of them laughed, the sound an exact mirror of how her grandfather had laughed at her face when he told Lane her mother would always be a slut in his eyes—
Lane screamed.
Chapter Eight
A luxuriously appointed bedroom gradually came into view as Lane’s eyes slowly drifted open. As her sight cleared, her memory returned, every sickening second of it. She quickly turned, her heart racing at the thought that perhaps the men were in the same room—
But all she saw was her fallen angel seated by her bedside, his back rigidly straight, a taut look on his handsome face.
“Angelo?” She pushed herself up on the bed, moving too quickly for her own good, and her temples throbbed.
“Don’t move so fast.” His voice was quiet and reserved, and she didn’t know what to make of it. “Take a sip.” He held a glass of her water to her lips, holding it for her, and she slowly took a sip while gazing at him.
But his face gave nothing away.