his lips, but I could just tell something was amiss.
The instinctive feeling of dread only grew worse as we approached the house. The faint sounds of muffled voices echoed from an indefinite direction. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up straight. I glanced at Alessandro, but his face was a cold, undecipherable mask. He opened the front door and waited for me to enter. As I stepped into the large vestibule, Lorenzo's deep commanding voice thundered through the hall. I shuddered and remained frozen to the spot. Chills ran down my spine at the terrifying scene we encountered.
Three huge men in black suits stood in the middle of the room as Lorenzo spat orders at them. Broderick, Henry and a man I had never seen before were tied to chairs, their hands bound behind their backs. The cloths in their mouths prevented them from making a sound. Blood trickled down their faces and their skin was marred by dark bruises. They’d suffered a brutal beating. I met Broderick's frightened, pleading gaze and sprinted toward him, but Alessandro snatched my elbow and hauled me against him. His firm hand crushed my head to his chest, blocking my gaze from the sight of horror. His pectoral muscles expanded and tensed as I wriggled in his embrace. Despite my nervous pleas, he held me tight against himself and exhaled in sheer anger. “Cazzo Madre di Dio! Here? You do it fucking here for my pregnant wife to see? I hope you know I’m going to put a goddamn bullet in your head!” Alessandro practically screamed and I shuddered from the magnitude of his voice. “What the hell did I tell you, stronzo?”
Stronger men would have cowered under the threat of such fury, but Lorenzo kept his cool. “You said you would take care of it yourself, so I’ve kept the gentleman alive until your arrival. Now they’re yours to handle. By the way, you’re welcome. I must admit it was not easy to resist pulling out my knife and turning them into a very bloody personal work of art.”
Those words shot adrenaline through my system and I thrashed against Alessandro all over again. “No! No! Don't let them do it! You promised!” My heart pounded so fast it actually hurt within my chest. “You promised you wouldn't!”
Alessandro attempted to soothe me and move my head away from the alarming sight of the tortured men, but I wouldn’t relent and kept fighting him.
Lorenzo laughed. “It seems your wife has a soft spot for her bodyguard after all.” Then, he leaned toward the tied up man whom I didn’t know. “You could sure use such a determined advocate, right Marco?” The man's muffled whimpers echoed through the vestibule. “Such a pity the lady doesn't seem to favor us Italians. It seems we might be too hotblooded for her taste.”
I started to argue, but Alessandro pulled me against himself even tighter, his suffocating grip warning me to stay silent.
“My wife is none of your business, Lorenzo. Is that clear?” Alessandro bit out in fury. “Quit making snark remarks, learn your place and show some goddamn respect or I’m going to carve a fucking work of art on your own skin, capisci?” he threatened in a venomous tone and lifted me in his arms despite my protests.
Triggered by Alessandro's simmering anger, Lorenzo began explaining himself in that same cold, composed tone. “Alessandro, you’re taking this the entirely wrong way. If you just—”
“I don't want to hear it.” Alessandro's voice thundered as he tightened his arms around me so I couldn’t escape. “Nobody fucking move until I get back!”
He carried me kicking and screaming down the hallway until we ended up in his office. He gently lowered my feet to the floor and released me from his grip. Blood drained from my face as reality sank in. Alessandro attempted to come closer, but I slapped him in sheer rage.
“How could you, you bastard? You promised me! You promised! You said no one would get hurt! You said you wouldn't touch him!” He caught my wrists in his hands, and tears sprang to my eyes, turning my voice wobbly. “You said you understood.”
A flicker of something I might have mistaken for sympathy flashed in Alessandro's eyes. “Olivia...”
“If you kill him, I will never forgive you,” I choked out.
He went pale for a moment, but then composed himself. “Olivia, look at me,” he demanded softly, and I slowly brought my pleading gaze to his. “This is not