Page 29 of From Rome, With Hate

Sensing my relentless stare, Rome’s eyes dart to find mine, and they steal my breath away. I quickly slip back to anger, giving him a sneer before shaking my head. I open my bag, wanting to shoot a text to my secretary, letting them know I’ll be late to work today. I shove aside my bottle of lip gloss, keys, wallet, and pepper spray but deflate when I don’t find my phone. I keep rifling through the same four items, foolishly believing my phone will magically appear out of thin air. Panicked, I snap my head up.

Rome is sitting in his seat, his mouth tilted into an evil grin as he holds up my phone between pinched fingers.

“Come on, Lark.” He chuckles. “You know I’m smarter than that.”

I narrow my gaze. “I didn’t realize the debt I owed you would be this torturous. You’re a sadist.” I sit back in my seat with a huff, refusing to give him anymore of my attention. He gets off on annoying me. He always has.

“I know you’re pissed at me for claiming my debt when I did and for refusing to give you your phone, but I told you I would give it to you when we land, and I intend on keeping my word.”

“Forgive me for not holding you to your word.” I scoff, rolling my head against the headrest to stare out my window. “You never have in the past.”

The plane descends, breaking through the clouds to reveal the land below and trees as far as the eye can see. The sun shines directly in my eyes, filling the plane cabin with light.

We definitely aren’t in the city anymore.

NINE

JULIANNA

I close my eyes and will this to be over with as fast as humanly possible. I think of all the things Rome could have me do to get back at me for writing the article that nearly destroyed his reputation, but there are too many possible scenarios, and I get overwhelmed thinking of them.

We don’t talk for the rest of the flight. After landing, I slip back into my shoes and follow Rome out of the plane, staying several feet behind him, refusing to speak to him again until he tells me exactly what he’s having me do here.

When my feet hit the airport runway, I take in my surroundings, hoping it’ll give me answers. I feel like a detective, taking in the gorgeous scenery of thick, tall trees around the tiny airport. Aside from Rome’s security detail and flight crew, it’s otherwise deserted. We’re alone.

A few hundred feet from the plane waits a black SUV with the back door propped open. Rome slips inside, and I do the same, sliding against the leather, wishing I was wearing something a little more appropriate. Something about a tight, skimpy black dress, a feathery coat, and thick chunky heels doesn’t feel right for this early in the morning.

I shove the nerves aside and breathe a small sigh of relief when I find familiar eyes looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“Ms. Capuleti.” He nods in acknowledgement.

“Marcus.” I give him a faint smile. “Hi.”

As Rome’s longtime bodyguard, Marcus has always been the closest person to either of us. He knows all our secrets, and there are many times in the past I’ve dared to call him a friend and confidante. But it’s been difficult over the past ten years to figure out where either of us stand, considering the complicated situation between Rome and me.

At least we’re still in the place of being cordial to one another with him even calling meMs. Capuleti.

Marcus drives us off the runway and out of the airport before turning onto a small two-lane road.

“Marcus,” I start. “Can you tell me where we’re going?”

His mouth pops open to answer, but Rome cuts him off before the word can pass his lips. “You’ll know when we get there.”

I snap my head in his direction. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I asked Marcus, not you. Plus, I’m not talking to you until you give me my phone.”

“I’ve instructed Marcus not to tell you where we’re going.”

Frustrated, I turn to look at Marcus again. He offers me sympathetic eyes and nothing more.

I give up.

I stare out my window in silence, watching the passing scenery in awe. We go from driving through thick forests to wide open plains. I don’t pay attention to Rome or Marcus. I don’t even know how long we’ve been on the road, considering I have no way of telling time.

Fuck, can this day go any slower? It feels like I’ve been stuck on this trip with Rome for years, not hours.

But my stomach flips when I recognize the small, secluded pond coming into view.

“Wait.” I exhale, my heart racing. “Why are we here?”