“Don’t do this, you need my protection.”
“Wrong, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Fine, I can see you’ve made up your mind. But I won’t be far, and this is very short term, Prende,” my voice grows louder out of frustration.
I’m still concerned for her safety, and my own, but I don’t want to alarm her.
“I’m sorry, but you misunderstood the situation.” I turn to go.
“I’m not the same person you met weeks ago, and I only agreed to marry you to avoid marrying that pig, Lirim. I picked you over him because I thought you were decent but maybe I’m wrong.”
“I am decent, and I wouldn’t jeopardize what we have just to have lunch with Angelica.”
“Angelica,” she spits the name and slams the door shut behind me.
She’ll get over it. But in the meantime, I call Francesca and ask her to follow Prende. Prende will be on the lookout for my guys in black, but she wouldn’t suspect a woman, and I grin. There are many ways to get what I want.
I run some errands; it’s getting late. I phone in dinner to go and double back to check on Prende, who would be heading home. The shop is closed but she always stays late, and I worry about her being there alone. Sure, I trust Francesca but I’m her fiancé, it should be me that’s watching her.
As I get closer, I hear screams and thinking the worst, I take off running. The cool night air is in my lungs as I sprint, one guard with me, one getting dinner.
I round the corner to see Prende being knocked to the ground. A man is grabbing at her handbag, and she holds on to it, struggling to keep what is hers.
Out of the shadows I catch site of a blond ponytail flying in the dimly lit street as Francesca delivers a kick to one of the attacker’s nuts and he doubles over, totally unprepared for the event. The other man, covered with a ski mask, is hit squarely in his chest by her roundhouse and is knocked off balance by her forceful hit.
“Prende,” I shout as I’m getting closer but it’s seeming like it takes an eternity to reach her. Francesca tries to grab the man in the street but they both get away as they call out frantically and jump into a waiting car that takes off, tires squealing. It all happened so fast; I didn’t get a license plate number, but the odds are it’s a stolen vehicle.
I kneel beside her on the concrete. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, that asshole tried to take my purse,” she says as she sits up brushing herself off then stands.
I push the hair out of her face to check for damage. If she has so much as one scratch, I’ll hunt him down like a dog and feed him his own testicles.
The only thing hurt is her pride, and her purse strap is broken. I help her up, look her over some more and put my arm around her.
“Thank you, Francesca.” I give Francesca a hug with my free arm.
“No problem, they men were waiting in the alley back there.” She points to the dark alley that has no meaning to me.
“Francesca?” Prende questions. I know this looks bad for me.
“Yes, I was in the area and Marchello asked that I keep an eye on you, he said that you might work late tonight, and we didn’t want you to be alone,” she explains.
“Oh, well, thank you. I’m sure I’d be more banged up if you weren’t here.”
“No problem,” Francecsa looks to me. “You good?”
“Yes, thank you so much.”
Francesca takes off in a fast sprint and now I’m not letting Prende out of my sight.
We need to get rid of that damn black book. It’s never a good idea to have something others are willing to kill for.
“Let’s pick up what you need and go home.”
She’s quiet and I take that as a win.
“Was there anything in your purse?”