My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassador Trilogy #3)

by Mia Villano

  “You promised me you weren’t in danger. I believed you. You knew didn’t you?” She looked up at me, and her gaze bore in to me. In my fog, I couldn’t read her. I felt her body tense with anger towards me.

  “I didn’t want to worry you, Isabella. You don’t need to worry about me.” She touched my face, and her gaze stayed on me.

  “I do need to worry about you. I love you, Fabrice.”

  “I need to get back to work. I want to get out of here.”

  “You will. Everyone has been here to see you. You are the top news story on every news network here and in America. The press has been camped out for three days in front of the hospital. Jean and his wife, General Morou, and the President, called to make sure you were okay. Your Prime Minister stopped by last night, and the French President also called. Your mom and dad have not left the hospital. They are outside in the waiting room. Your mom has been a mess since this happened.”

  “I love you,” I whispered. Fuck, even with mascara smudged and swollen eyes, she was so beautiful. Maybe even more beautiful then she had ever been before. Her familiar aura and sweet scent made me feel at home. She was my home.

  Her eyes locked onto mine and she began to cry again. “I love you more than anything.”

  “Don’t cry.” My fingers felt big and swollen, but I managed to stroke her face and brush the tears away.

  “I’m so relieved you’re alive, Fabrice. I wouldn’t be able to make it, if you died.” I wish I shared in her happiness. I was still pissed off I had been shot and now in this damn hospital when I should be working trying to stop this type of shit from happening.

  I noticed something in her hand.

  “What’s this?” I nodded towards her hands.

  “Your rosary. I didn’t have mine with me, so your mom gave me yours. I prayed so hard. I even prayed to St. Anthony for a miracle, and he always comes through for me.”

  “He listened. Thank you. Kiss me,” I murmured.

  She didn’t hesitate, and her lips touched mine ever so slightly. My lips were dry and cracked and hers so wet and warm. I wanted to melt into her. Nothing tasted better. She was all I needed to keep me alive. She was everything and so much more.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~

  That afternoon I had more visitors then I cared about. My parents, Isabella, and Gustan were the few people I wanted to see. That wasn’t the case with the rest. When the team of physicians felt I was alert enough to answer questions, authorities came in to get more information on what happened. I wasn’t sure the exact details. As I tried to recall those few minutes, some of the faces flashed through my mind, the screams, and the splattering of blood on the walls. I looked towards the window as my stomach clenched at the thought of what happened in those few short minutes. I didn’t want them to see me get emotional so I turned my head away from them. After a few minutes I looked back and they continued with their questions. They wanted to know if I heard the gunmen say anything. I recalled one had screamed in broken English that the attack was revenge for killing their leader. The authorities took notes and promised to be back in touch.

  The Paris prosecutor came in to ask more questions later in the day. He and I were friends from college. Pierre Bernard was a good man whom I respected. He was my primary contact during the hostage siege. We discussed this might happen ten years ago, and he was who I spoke to last month when the threats began to come in again. He told me to stay in the United States as much as possible. I didn’t listen to him of course, and he quickly reminded me.

  “Fabrice, you stubborn man, we are so glad you were alive. When I heard what happened, I feared the worst.”

  “You were right and I should have listened to you.” My eyes were heavy with exhaustion as I tried to speak to him with a strong authoritative voice.

  “Yes, you should have. I have word the two men in the shop had ties to the extreme Islamic group in Syria, the group that followed Azhar Hakim.

  “That fucking bastard has been dead now for ten years. They have a new piece of shit leading them. It’s his son, I think.

  “They wanted revenge. They had been following you for months back and forth to Washington. They wanted to kill you on your home land and take innocent people along with you.”

  “There was this boy. I can’t get his face out of my head. They were going to kill him. Tell me he is okay.”

  “As I recall, there was no child killed that day. The terrorist killed ten people, and children were not among the dead. I will definitely verify that for you.” My body relaxed to know he was still alive.

  “Am I safe now? Is Isabella safe?”

  He hesitated. His gaze left my face, and he looked away. I knew what that meant before he said anything.

  “I feel you are, for the most part, safer. Two of them are dead. The group has claimed responsibility for the deaths of the innocent in the café. We have not heard anything from anyone to make us believe you are not. That is not to say they won’t start again. Right now, I don’t know how many we are dealing with. If Azhur’s son is now in charge, and he is still alive, I would say we have more work to do. I would like you to keep Gustan with you as much as possible, go back to Washington when you are strong enough, and this time inform me faster when and if any more threats come in. Also, I’m not satisfied with only Gustan. I’m getting some more people around you. I know you don’t like that, but that is how it needs to be right now. Later, we can cut back. I’d feel safer if you let me hire some more protection.” I took a second to look at him to read him more thoroughly. He was genuinely concerned. I had Isabella to think of now and my ego needed to take a backseat.

  “Thank you, Pierre. More guards are not necessary for me, but for Isabella’s sake let’s do add more security.” I didn’t want more people around me. I had a hard time accepting Gustan living with me twenty-four hours a day. My place would be turned into a commune with more guards. “What are we talking about, a couple more?”

  “I’m thinking, right now, at least four, and I want to make sure there are cameras all over your home for the security guard to monitor every angle. I will put Gustan in charge of this and speak to him today.

  “I need to ask a question?”

  “Anything, Fabrice.” He sat forward and listened to me intently.

  “Tell me the truth, even with all of this, is Isabella safe here with me in Paris?” He looked down and said nothing.

  “Tell me, Pierre. She’s my life.”

  “I think she would be safer in the United States. I don’t think it’s safe for you or her to stay here right now. The doctors don’t want you to leave Paris yet and I know she won’t leave you. I can have you protected. I will do what I can.”

  I nodded my head in agreement.

  “Gustan is one man. If these bastards are serious, you need more. It’s a damn shame you have to live like that, but until we know more, that is what needs to be done to keep both you and Isabella safe. It’s not forever, Fabrice.”

  “I will do whatever I have to so she is safe. I don’t want her to know or be afraid. I would give up my life for her. I couldn’t imagine anyone hurting her.”

  Pierre stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out.

  “We need to get your house secure. I’m talking state of the art security system. I think your dad may have already done that.” He turned back around to look at me.

  “What house?” He kept mentioning my home. I didn’t know what home he was referring to. I sold my Paris apartment and the only home I currently had in Paris, was my parents.

  “The vineyard, I believe while you are still here in Paris.” The vineyard house was a mess and had not been lived in for years. The last time I was inside, the entire thing needed to be remodeled. I thought I better check with Isabella. I let it go, and Pierre kept talking.

  “Isabella needs security when she goes anywhere while she is still here. Try to keep her at home with you, as much as possible. I will keep you posted every couple of days with updates. Let me
know if there is anything else I can do to help out. Don’t go anywhere without at least two bodyguards while you’re here. They are watching this terrorist group. They are bound to slip up and then we will go in for the kill.”

  I nodded my head.

  “I want her to be safe.”

  “And I want you to be safe too. You’re just as important, Fabrice. You are the French Ambassador, for God’s sake. I will stop by the vineyard and we can see what needs to be done. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  Alive. Was I alive or was I just existing? Would I ever be able to live free again?

  Pierre had not convinced me Isabella would be completely safe. I needed to keep her protected and I needed to be reassured her safety was a top priority on every one’s list, not just mine. While I was in this damn hospital there was nothing I could do. I depended on those two men to look after her and provide her with the security they said they would. That was all I worried about. I had to get out as soon as possible because, you couldn’t depend on people. Yes, they promised they would take care of things, but when it came right down to it, all you had was yourself.

  When my parents visited later that afternoon, I asked my father about securing the house. I asked what house we were talking about. He told me he had fixed up the house in the vineyard. The ranch style house was small, but only one floor and the layout would be perfect for me to use while I recovered.

  “That place needs a lot of work, Dad.” I couldn’t imagine moving in there in the shape the house was in.

  “Don’t you worry. I have it covered. I want you to concentrate on getting well.”

  When my father stepped out to get some coffee, my mother informed me he had been working nonstop to get set up for me. She said she had not seen him so upset in the forty-five years they were married. He was terrified when he heard the news I had been shot. He immediately came to the hospital and demanded to be with me. Outwardly, my dad and I didn’t appear to be close, but there was definitely an unspoken love, not to be shown to the world but to be kept between us.

  Gustan came by later that afternoon, and I thanked him for saving my life a second time. I don’t know how to repay him. I owed him so much. First, he was with me when we killed the hostage takers, then he’d saved me from being burned alive, and now he’d saved me from having my head blown off. He will always be considered family to me no matter what.

  “Shooting the asshole was not hard. All I needed was a clear shot of the bastard. He aimed right at your head. My sharp shooting skills need some brushing up. I didn’t do that good of a job because he hit you in the leg before he went down. I should have shot him first. But, you are alive, and for that I’m happy.

  “This is the second time you have saved my life, Gustan. I honestly don’t know how to repay you.” Carrying on a conversation was exhausting. My head was not with it. The constant shot of pain in my leg made me cringe. I broke out in a cold sweat and grit my teeth trying not to show how bad I felt.

  “You can repay me and name your first son after me. Gustan Arbidoux sounds perfect.” He laughed and touched my shoulder.

  “Seriously, you would have done the same. When a gun is aimed at my best friend’s head, of course I will react. The attack happened so fast. The gunfire was incredible. Bullets were flying everywhere breaking glass, coffee pots were shattering and the smell of coffee was so strong. Remember that time we came up on gunfire in that little town in Syria? We were walking along and out of nowhere there were bullets zooming by our heads. That was what it was like, only in a small, enclosed place. There was so much commotion and screaming, it was hard for me to concentrate or react as quickly as I wanted to. Those fucks shot three women. Three women were blown apart for no reason. Those cowards didn’t care about innocent people. Women are nothing to them.”

  My heart raced at the thought of what happened. I could feel my stomach churn. Their terrifying screams still echoed in my head. “I don’t understand why they couldn’t shoot me and leave them alone.”

  “That’s what they do. They kill the innocent to scare and terrorize. They have no fear of death. Human life is nothing to them. One screamed something in another language I couldn’t understand until I heard Ambassador. I knew you were going to be next. I had to protect you. I almost didn’t bring my gun with me that day. Did you know I walked all the way down to your office and turned around to go back and get my gun? Something told me I needed that damn thing. We would both be pushing up daisies right now if I hadn’t. I also still owe you a chocolate croissant.” He smiled again. I didn’t have any reason to smile back.

  I was desperate to find out more about this boy and his mother. “There was a boy with his mother. They were going to kill him. The gun was pointed at his head and that’s when I lunged at him. Did he survive?” Why couldn’t someone tell me about this boy?

  He became serious for a second. “There were no children killed. I will find out about this boy. Do you remember what he looked like?” I gave him the same information as I gave Pierre.

  “Were any Americans killed?” I asked.

  “No, one person was from Spain, one from Poland. No Americans were killed, but two were hurt.”

  “I need to speak to the President.” I had to talk to him and offer my apologies. This happened because of me.

  “You will, Fabrice. You will.” Gustan grabbed my shoulder to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. He did this to me once before during the hostage siege when I was injured.

  I explained to Gustan what I remembered, and he promised he would find out. The boy was small holding onto his mother’s hand and whimpering. He had longer dark hair and a blue back pack on him. I remembered him trying to be brave, but he was so afraid. His whimpers turned to a yell “No,” right before I was shot. Gustan promised he would find out. I knew I could trust him and Pierre to find out. If Gustan says he was going to do something, he would do it.

  He sat down next to me in a chair. Talking made me extremely tired. I buzzed the nurse so that she would give me something for pain. She came in right away and injected her concoction into my IV. Soon it would be lights out.

  I whispered to Gustan so only he and I could hear.

  “Gustan, listen to me. Pierre said they were sending extra security to the house. That’s fine, but I need you to stay with Isabella. I need to know she is safe and if you are with her she will be. You are the best there is and I want you with her.” I pleaded to him with my eyes.

  “I don’t think she will like that, Fabrice. She doesn’t seem to like me much,” he smiled. I ignored the bullshit response. None of this was reason for smiling right now. I didn’t care if Isabella despised him.

  “Try to follow her without her knowing. Pierre plans on turning my home into Fort Knox, and I want you to focus on her. I want her to know as little as possible.” He nodded his head in agreement and pointed to the armed guard outside my door.

  “I checked him out; he’s top notch. Try to get some rest while you are here. You need to rest, Fabrice. I will watch Isabella. Your home will be secure, and everything is going to be fine. You don’t have to worry about that.” I didn’t answer him.

  Everybody thinks all I have to do is rest. I didn’t want to rest. I needed his reassurance he would take care of her.

  “Listen to me. This is not about me right now. I want you to promise me she will be okay. You have to do one last thing for me, Gustan.” My eyes became heavy and it was a struggle to keep them open.

  “Yes. You can count on me, Fabrice. You can always count on me. I will watch over her. I have the situation under control. Now, please stop worrying about everything.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. I felt somewhat better and was able to close my eyes for a while.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~

  Later that evening after my parents and Isabella left, I fell in and out of a fitful sleep. When I was awake my thoughts were muddled with memories of that day. Over and over I would picture the blood and the people so scared and pleadi
ng for their lives. I couldn’t get the images out of my head. I’d seen worse than that when I was in Special Ops, and none of the killings or brutality bothered me. None of those images or memories kept me up at night. This was different, and I could not shake the images. When I would sleep, I dreamt crazy things. I dreamt my leg was as skinny as a twig and if I stood, my leg would break. I dreamt I had a peg leg, and the worst was having no leg at all.

  I was so thirsty, all I wanted was water. My body didn’t feel like my own. Nothing felt right. During the middle of the night I looked down at my chest. My pecs were still muscular and tight. My scars were still prominent across my shoulders. I shoved the blanket to my feet. I wanted to see my leg. I needed to see the damage that had been done. Pushing the button for the nurse, she came right in.

  “Yes, Ambassador. Are you in pain?”

  “Can I see my leg? I want to see what the gunshot did to me.” I cringed at the pain in my head. My face was on fire.

  “I will call the doctor. Your leg is in a cast right now. You had surgery and the cast is to keep the bone that was broken stable. Is it bothering you?” She tried unsuccessfully to reassure me. I wasn’t buying her excuses. Is it bothering me? What the fuck did she think?

  “Can’t you take off the cast? I want to see my leg,” I said, through gritted teeth. The damn antiseptic smell of this hospital was pissing me off along with this nurse’s lack of cooperation. I know I had surgery. I’m not a fucking idiot.

  “Let me call the doctor,” she said, backing out of my room looking at me with a sympathetic expression. If I had the strength, I would have locked the door and taken the fucking cast off myself.

  I lay there in the darkness of my own hell. The stark green walls, unfamiliar noises of carts moving up and down the hall, and voices of the medical staff made my attitude worse. Footsteps up and down the hall made me jumpy with fear. Someone brought in a tray of food and I felt like throwing the slop against the wall. I glanced out the window into the black of the night. My room must be on one of the higher floors because I could see the tops of nearby buildings. I imagined the hustle and bustle of the city. People going about their lives, whole and put together. Where was Isabella? She needed to be safe. I needed to know where she was. I felt hot. My body hurt, and I was so hot.