Page 19 of Unlock My Heart

“Too bold, Michele.” I rise, adjusting my cuffs to give my hands something to do, other than kill him.

“Hope the pussy’s worth it, because you just cost me big money tonight,” he bitches.

“You finally have an excuse for your dwindling kickups.” I smirk. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Striding across the room and backstage, my heart’s pounding against my ribcage, because I don’t see Sienna. The jazz band begins its set, but not before I hear a high-pitched scream. Sprinting to the ladies’ room, I fling the door open to find Sienna being held by two girls. Her dress has been cut up, and she’s pantiless.

Chantelle shoves a glass bottle behind her back. “Fabien. We were just joking around with the new⁠—”

Grabbing my gun, I aim and fire, blowing the bitch’s head off.

The other two women scatter like cockroaches, but there’s nowhere to hide. Two rounds take them both out.

Sienna looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Come here, Sienna,” I say gently, holstering my gun.

She doesn’t move, glancing down at her cherry dress, now tattered and covered in crimson. Over to the blood spattered on the wall, and down to the glass bottle that was dangerously close to being shoved inside her vagina.

Trying to remain calm for her sake, I choke down my anger with a loud swallow. “Do you need a doctor?” Shrugging out of my suit jacket, I cross the room in large strides and drape it over her bare shoulders and readjust what’s left of her tattered dress.

“Yes.” Sienna’s voice is nothing but a whisper as she eyes the bodies. “To revive these bitches so I can kill them myself.”

I howl with laughter as I scoop her into my arms. “Quella è la mia ragazza.”

“Put me down; I can walk,” she protests as I carry her out the back entrance and to my waiting car. Shuffling her in my arms, I get the passenger door open and her situated before I hustle around to the driver’s seat.

Sienna’s hypnotic eyes pierce into mine as I lean across the console to buckle her up. They’re a lovely color of hazel, but it’s the unusual-shaped pupils that are so stunning, like an upside-down tear. “You’re Fabien Calvani.”

“The one and only.” I wink at her.

“You bid on me.”

“Better fucking believe I did,” I assure her.

“You owe me eighteen grand,” she informs me.

I cock an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

With crossed arms, Sienna stares me down. “You think I’m only worth five grand?”

My head shakes vehemently. “I would’ve paid whatever it took.”

“How noble,” she says dryly. “You still owe me eighteen grand, because by you bidding on me, everyone else was afraid to. Thus, you under-inflated my earnings.”

I chuckle. “Alright, piccola volpe, I owe you eighteen grand.”

“What does piccola volpe mean?” It’s cute, her trying to pronounce the Italian words.

“Little fox. I’ve decided that’s your nickname.” I flash a grin.

“We don’t have nicknames,” she corrects me.

“Sure we do. Amore. Bello. Il Mio Re. I’ll let you pick mine,” I tease her.

With narrowed eyes, she grabs her phone from her purse and sets a timer. “Your two hours begin now.”

One hundred and twenty minutes to win over my girl.

Something tells me I’ll need every one of them, down to the second.