by Olivia Deici
I kissed her forehead and turned.
“I'll finish getting ready.”
I turned again. “You're fucking perfect, Izzy. I'll be right back.”
I saw her smile as I turned to go downstairs. My face hardened with every step I descended. I was grinding my teeth so hard, they were going to chip. I clenched my fists and grabbed my phone. I'm surprised my grip didn't bend or break it.
“Yea, Boss.”
I literally growled at Ralph. I had it out with him and told him what happened. “You get clearance from me. I'm your boss. Izzy doesn't give you the night off. I do.”
“I'm sorry, Boss. The look on her face…”
I knew that look.
“I couldn't say no.”
I was fucking weak with her, too.
But I didn't care- this was her safety.
“Don't do it again.”
“I won't, Boss. Want me to go back?”
“No. I'll take care of tonight and the weekend. I'm going to add a car to surveil, in addition to having you three standing outside of the building.”
“Find anything unusual?”
“Not yet. I'm looking over the building and then the premises. I'll let you know if I find anything.”
I hung up and dialed Jose. Unlike the three I'd hired from our legitimate security service, I was going off-road with this. Her building would be monitored around the clock.
By any measures.
By any means.
At the front of the building, I saw an envelope on the reception area floor that must have come in through the old fashioned door mail slot. I squatted down and grabbed it. It was not addressed to anyone. Opening the letter, I saw the bold script, which could only have been written by a man.
Anche in paradiso non è bello essere soli.
Italian.
Even in paradise, it is not good to be alone.
What the fuck was this about? Did she have a stalker? At first, I suspected Parada hadn't heeded my threats and had been the one who broke in and unlocked Izzy’s doors. That asshole didn't know Italian, though. He was as dumb as a tree stump and barely spoke English and Spanish correctly.
This wasn't sitting well in my gut.
Had Izzy received other notes? Should I tell her about this one, or keep it quiet for now?
The message wasn't so much what had me worried. It was the handwriting that had me concerned. No one threatens in handwriting anymore- it leads straight back to the writer. This message was handwritten as if the writer didn't fear whether the police would be called or that he would be later identified by it.
It's like he knows they won't be called.
There was more to this message than just its words. The writer was banking on the reader identifying him by his handwriting.
That was the threat.
The reader was my Izzy.
The writer I would soon find.
But then, logically, this had to mean it was someone in her past, a past my Izzy never discusses.
I groaned.
I briefly wondered whether I should play this legal and call Rey. We grew up together. He was a part of the groups of boys I mentioned earlier. He and another childhood friend, Al, had decided to join the force. Things were a bit dicey amongst us because of their jobs. We could still kick it back but we kept things personal- no business. Rey and Al made it clear that friendships aside, they'd do their jobs even if it meant coming after us. Fortunately, my family was careful and we meticulously cleaned up after ourselves.
I shook my head. This would ruin tonight. Izzy needed a fun night and I'd planned one for her. I'll tell her in the morning.
Maybe.
I pocketed the note and went upstairs. She was on the phone.
“If the fever goes up beyond 102 or continues through tomorrow, I want you to take Mary to the emergency room.”
She nodded her head and continued to answer questions from her patient. A few minutes later, she hung up her phone and looked at me.
Chapter 18
Izzy
“Everything ok?”
I was spooked. Someone had unlocked my door.
Roman was at the top of the stairs as I’d finished with my patient. I stood waiting for his answer. My nails bit into the flesh of my palm as my breath came in short pants.
God, I didn't want to go down this road again. I tried to play off my anxiety and worry when he’d come in, but the truth was, I was scared.
Had I been found?
Who was I kidding? Of course I was. I could never, and would never, hide from them. It wasn't for lack of trying.
I hadn't had a panic attack in years but my breath wasn't coming fast enough, and then it was coming too fast.
I was panting.
I swayed.
“Izzy?”
In two strides, Roman was by my side. “Sit, baby.”
I let him guide me to the sofa. I gripped my knees. I was only able to focus on my knuckles, which were white.
Focus.
Breathe.
Calm the racing thoughts.
I'm ok.
It's going to be alright.
But what if they find me?
It's not happening again. It won't be happening again.
They've found me.
Breathe.
Pant.
Oh God. I don't want to move again. I finally found somewhere I want to be.
Somewhere I thought I was safe.
They're going to get me.
Focus.
Breathe.
“IZZY!”
I sucked in a breath and realized Roman was kneeling before me and had a palm on each of my cheeks trying to get my attention.
I closed my eyes.
“I'm ok.”
My voice was croaky, raw. My mouth had gone dry and my lips were sticking to my teeth. My cheeks felt cold with the absence of his hands. I opened my eyes and saw him getting up. He returned with a glass of water. The cool liquid rehydrated my mouth and throat.
“Are you alright?”
My eyes refocused on him. He was kneeling before me again.
“Did you find anything?”
“No.”
His eyes studied me and he reached out a hand. The warmth of his large palm on my cheek comforted me.
“Nothing will happen to you. I'm adding more security.”
“Roman, please. Don't-”
His index finger on my lips stopped the flow of my words.
“You will be protected. At whatever cost. Whatever it takes.”
His voice was soft, and enveloped me in a warm cocoon, like my velvety chenille throw did when I was cold.
“Do you know anything more? Have you received anything? Threats? Phone calls?”
I hate lying to him but I didn't want to open a can of worms, especially when it just might be my imagination or something innocent.
“I feel silly. I could've left it unlocked.”
My smile didn't fool him. “Izzy.”
His electric eyes saw too much. My eyes diverted to the side.
“What are you hiding?”
I let a moment pass, steeled my resolve, and smiled.
“It's all good. I'm good. I just got spooked, that's all. I've been so absentminded. I could've left the doors unlocked.”
He didn't seem convinced. His hand cupped my cheek and he stared into my eyes for several heartbeats.
“I'm going to protect you. I won't let anything happen to you.”
I tried to give him my most convincing smile.
“I'm sure it's fine.”
He didn't look like he bought it completely but nodded his head. He looked at my arms.
“Where did you get those?”
I looked down at my hot pink fingerless gloved hands, and blushed.
“It completes the look.”
His laugh was so awesome. It was deep and rich. His dimples were amazing. His eyes were luminescent.
I leaned forward suddenly and wrapped my arms around his wide sh
oulders. Before he could react, my lips crushed his. I groaned when he returned my kiss with equal fervor.
I wanted this man.
Our kiss was hot and carnal. I began sliding his jacket off his shoulders, when he pulled back.
“Let's just stay in,” I said, my lips lightly touching his still.
He shook his head.
“You're gonna love tonight, Izzy. I planned something special for you, and I'm not letting my dick stop you from enjoying it.”
I smiled against his lips. “I think your dick will be all the enjoyment I need. Exchange one good time for another.”
His grin was sexy as hell.
“You tempt me, baby. God you tempt me. We'll have time after.” He stood up and offered me his hand with a smirk.
“Ready?”
My smile reflected my excitement. Just what had he planned?
I placed my gloved hand in his.
“Yes.”
Chapter 19
Izzy
Cielo.
I'd heard about this club here and there. It was elite and hard to get into, but we had no such problems. Daggers were being cast from the eyes of those in line as we walked up to the entrance. They were dressed in the style of the 80s, too. Was it 80s night or something?
Roman nodded to the bouncer and we walked through the entrance. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.
I'd heard Cielo was a modern club, but what I saw was something straight from the 80s. Neon pinks, purples, greens, and blues were strobing. People were strutting in their outfits befitting the era. They were even dancing like it was 1985.
Where’s the Party by Madonna was playing. How apropos.
I loved it.
It must have reflected on my face because Roman turned to me and asked, “You like it?”
Grinning ear to ear, I nodded my head. I jumped, grabbing his hands. I was so freaking excited.
“I've always wanted to do something like this.”
He smiled at me and cupped my cheek. The smoldering look in his eyes hitched my breath. “Enjoy yourself tonight.”
My cheeks heated under his palms and my body came alive under his gaze. I reached up and placed my palm on the side of his handsome face and pulled down. He obliged and I felt my insides flourish when our lips touched. It felt like what a rose looked like blooming on time lapse. It was like I was opening myself up to the wonderful rain droplets after years of drought, solitude, and darkness.
I was coming alive.
I opened my mouth when his tongue sought entrance. I brought my other hand up to his cheek when he began pulling back. He looked down at me.
“If this continues, we won't be able to enjoy the night I've planned for you.”
My eyes widened. “More? What did you do?”
His smirk made me want to rip his pants off and jump him.
“You'll see.”
He grabbed my hand and led me to the VIP area, which was decked out in all of the fluorescent colors beaming through the club. A server came by and asked what we wanted to drink. I ordered a cranberry mango drink the server recommended when I asked about fruity cocktails. Roman’s smile was smug and I pursed my lips at him. He'd made a joke that night we'd gone out together about me having fruity cocktails. Roman’s eyes never left mine as he ordered.
“Martini, straight up, wet and dirty.”
Goosebumps flew across my skin at his stare.
“You like bitter drinks, huh?”
The twist of his lips foreshadowed his comment.
“Martinis aren't the only things I like wet and dirty. And, the wet and dirty I plan on having later will be the sweetest thing to ever touch my lips and tongue.”
My pulse spiked and I felt myself get wet. I'd forgotten to breathe. Somewhere, something had sucked the air out of the room. Our eyes were locked in unvoiced promises. Tonight would be the best night of my life, I just knew it.
An MC went on stage breaking our locked eyes, and introduced a cover band who would be performing songs by Tiffany. I screamed like a teenage girl and hugged Roman. We were literally steps away from the stage. Even though I had been born in the 80s and never hit my teenage years during the decade, I'd idolized Tiffany as a child.
There was space in the VIP area and though I was normally shy, I got up and began dancing. I laughed as I kicked my legs and swung my upper body from side to side. My favorite song I Think We’re Alone Now was playing.
I looked over at Roman and he was smiling wide. I motioned for him to join me but he shook his head. As the band sang a few more songs, Roman got up and came behind me. He wrapped an arm around me and ground his hips against my ass.
Holy. Shit.
I'd felt him up before now when we were playing around like teenagers, but wow.
He felt huge.
I was so turned on, I pushed back. I thought I heard him growl.
They announced that they’d be ending their performance with two last songs and began singing All This Time, and Could’ve Been. I leaned back against Roman. Even in my stiletto-heeled ankle boots, I fit underneath his chin with room above my head. He wrapped his enormous arms around me and I felt so damn good. He was warm and safe. It felt like home.
He felt like home.
Tightening my arms around his, we slowly moved together to the ballads, my back still to his chest. An odd feeling of foreboding washed over me as I listened to the lyrics that, when I was younger, I hadn't paid much attention to.
I shivered.
Roman rubbed my arms and brought his head down to the left side of my neck. He kissed me there.
“Cold?”
I nodded, preferring that lie to the truth.
I liked Roman, and hated the feeling in my stomach telling me that we wouldn't last. He was the first man I'd let in since Elias. Before Elias, there had been no one.
I had been on the run.
I didn't want to lose what I was building with Roman. I found myself disliking the songs I'd once adored. I felt they were an omen that I didn't want. If something was going to happen, then I wanted to be blissfully blind before my heart would be ripped out.
The depth of my feelings for him had strengthened over the last months. It was quick and completely unexpected. After all, I had once rolled my eyes at the name Zambrano. I'd pushed my way into the office of a person who I thought was the biggest asshole of life.
Instead, I found a man who was intelligent, caring, and giving.
I was falling…
…falling head over heals.
For him.
When the band finished, the DJ came out and began mixing amazing song after amazing song. He even played We Are Not Alone, from the library dance scene in The Breakfast Club, one of my favorite 80s movies. I began kicking my feet, using my shoulders to switch directions, doing my very best Molly Ringwald dance. My laugh was belly-deep, and Roman joined me, mimicking and moving his arms like the funky walk Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall, and Emilio Estévez did.
I was having the time of my life and I couldn't put my finger on something nagging me. Songs from Lime, New Order, Duran Duran, The Cure, and Depeche Mode blasted through the speakers, and all of them, coincidentally, were my favorites. In fact, songs from the soundtracks from my favorite 80s movies were played, too. We spent weekends watching them, and Roman never once complained about my penchant for 80s movies, even the angsty teen ones.
I stopped dancing, catching him off-guard when I turned to him. He stopped dancing and that had me wanting him to start again. He was an amazing dancer. He even made the 80s moves look good.
Was there something he wasn't good at?
“What?”
I looked at him expectantly. He smirked.
“Took you long enough.”
“Why did you do this?”
No one had done anything as nice for me.
Ever.
The songs that had been playing overhead-, and the songs from the movies- they were all from my 80s playli
st and from my favorite movies.
I jumped up and hugged him. He lifted me up higher and kissed my neck.
“Because you deserve this. You deserve a fun night. You deserve the best of everything, Izabella Laurenti.”
I got choked up. My breath eluded me again and I kissed him with every molecule of desire in my body. My hands zippered into his hair and my mouth devoured his. He returned my kiss, growling into my waiting mouth. He pulled back again and smiled.
“I can't wait for tonight,” I whispered as our foreheads touched.
For once, there was no smart sexy retort or flirtatious smile. The look on his face was serious and intense. His eyes looked into mine.
“Me too.”
He kissed me hard again and set me down gently. I saw that he sent a caller to voicemail for what seemed like the tenth time tonight.
“My feelings won't get hurt if you answer. Thank you for thinking of me, but it seems like it might be important.” I looked around for the server but I couldn't find him. “Why don't I get us more drinks and you return the phone call?”
He brought me in close to him. He dragged his nose across one cheek and pecked me on the lips.
“I'll be right back.”
I nodded and we turned in separate directions. I worked my way through the dancing crowd. Some of them were grinding against each other, lost in their own worlds. The thought that the music was freaking amazing crosses my mind, and I laugh realizing I was inadvertently complimenting my own taste.
The main bar was a bit away from our VIP section, and I vowed that I wouldn't make the trek here again. It was too crowded, and I was almost getting trampled even though my heels made me a little taller. Next time, I'd patiently wait for the server.
I almost tripped over my own feet when in a distance I spot something as close to an apparition as I'll ever see. Momentarily dazed from the drop in blood pressure at the sight, a young woman dances into me and I almost fall. She gives me a hostile look as if I was at fault and by the time I breathe and look up, the apparition was gone.
A ghost.
The ghost was gone.
I begin to question whether he was real or whether it was someone with a startling similar face and build.
I can barely regroup myself, my breathing was so hard and fast. Fight or flight was taking over me, and if I was being honest, flight was winning. If I wasn't careful, I was going to hyperventilate. I brought my hand up to my forehead and it came back wet. I felt a bead of moisture travel down behind my ear.
