That laugh!
Angelo’s laugh had worked like a wakeup call, shocking Lane back to her senses as it reminded her who Angelo was.
He was a rich man, yes, but more than that—-
He was her fallen angel.
And she had been silly to forget that.
He might be rich, and she might be afraid of him now, but she knew suddenly with absolute certainty that the fear would eventually go away and everything would be back to the way it was supposed to be.
Angelo Valencia torturing her, and Lane wanting to be tortured.
“Tesoro?” When she looked up at him, he told her solemnly, “I’m starting to think you’re right.”
“Oh?”
“You are crazy.”
A nervous laugh escaped her. “Sorry. I know I made you worry, but I promise, I’m alright now.”
“Perhaps you need a doctor—-”
“You mean a shrink, don’t you?” she teased.
He didn’t smile back, only saying seriously, “Anything – anyone – you need, tesoro, you only have to tell me. I want my Lane back, the one who couldn’t stop licking my mouth despite everyone in the diner staring at her.”
Oh.
GOSH.
She couldn’t speak right away, with her heart feeling like it was bursting at the words. Swallowing, she said, “T-that Lane’s 90% back now. I just need more time to be...completely back. Okay?” And Lane held her breath, knowing that they both knew what she was really asking for was a second chance.
A moment passed.
Then Angelo said, “You may prove it to me later.”
Her eyes widened.
“We’ll have milkshake for dessert.”
She blushed.
Angelo laughed as he came to his feet. “I truly need to take this call, tesoro.” He paused. “You’ll be alright here alone?”
She nodded.
But still he hesitated to leave. “Perhaps it’s better if I have the security with you inside here, just in case your trauma comes back.”
“Angelo,” she protested. “It’s not necessary—-”
But he was already nodding decisively. “Yes, I think it is better.”
And before she knew it, he was gone, and the bodyguards stationed outside were inside the dining room with her.
Unsure of the proper etiquette for dealing with personal security, she said awkwardly, “Hello.”
The two men appeared surprised.
“Good evening, signorina,” the shorter, burly guard said, and his older, grey-haired partner echoed his greeting.
And that was that.
One minute turned into two, and Lane started feeling suffocated again.
In the past two years, therapy and being part of the Mortimer family had helped her come a long way in terms of handling a trauma. She had learned to be more strategic and practical, and by mentally preparing herself for every wealthy-looking place she needed to visit, Lane had been able to control her body’s instinctive reaction.
Before her enrolment in CU, Lane had watched countless videos of the university on YouTube and spent hours memorizing its layout. Knowing where the exits helped calm her down, and when classes finally started, Lane’s efforts had paid off. She had only broken down at the end of the day. It was a major feat, considering she used to have panic attacks at the mere sight of anyone carrying a Hermes bag.
Ten minutes passed and there were still no signs of Angelo coming back anytime soon.
It’s okay, Lane told herself determinedly even as tension made her feel like a ticking bomb. She tried to relax, but more and more the dining room’s tastefully lavish décor felt like it was grinning hungrily at her, turning into an inanimate monster that was just waiting, waiting for its chance—-
She bolted out of her seat and ran for the doors, throwing them open. She was unaware that the guards had also burst into action the first second she moved.
“Signorina!”
She instinctively looked over her shoulder—-
Oh my God, they had their guns out!
Lane froze and threw her hands up.
They reached her side in the next second.
“What’s wrong, signorina,” the shorter one demanded.
“Is Signor Valencia under threat?” the older one asked.
It took Lane more than a few moments to realize that they weren’t about to shoot her. When panic allowed her to brain to start functioning again, she cringed in horrified realization and stammered, “No, I’m sorry, it’s nothing like that.”
Their arms slowly lowered.
Unable to fault them for still looking suspicious, she apologized again, “I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to startle you.” She cleared her throat. “I had a...panic attack.”
The two gazed at her like she was mental.
Well, she probably was, in their eyes.
She said, “Never mind.” Here in the hallway, it was less...opulent, and her body started to relax, her breath gradually returning to normal. “Can I, umm, just stay here for a sec?”
They nodded, still gazing at her like she was a living oddity.
“You don’t need to keep me company.”
“We will stay here if you please, signorina. It is our duty,” the older one said simply.
Right.
In that case—-
She stuck her hand out. “I’m, umm, Lane Petersen, by the way.” While she did feel awkward because of her panic attack, Lane wasn’t at all nervous around both men. Bodyguards were the good guys, after all. Bodyguards knew where all the exits were, and more importantly, they weren’t filthy rich.