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Bowing mockingly, he moved aside, allowing her to pass. His whisper reverberated in the darkness.
“Sweet dreams.”
Present
Glass shattered in the night.
A vase, she saw dimly. Knocked over by her fearful retreat. The sound broke through the haze of the past, but not hard enough to shake its chokehold. Not when it was recurring all over again.
“Ms. Ana?” the bodyguard repeated, his voice low.
He was so tall, taller than she remembered. So much stronger too. She began trembling all over, unable to take the onslaught of sensations. As she did, he jerked forward, rushing to her.
No.
No.
“No,” she whispered pleadingly, squeezing her eyes shut.
Arms closed around her, holding her down.
“NO!”
“What the hell is going on here?”
All the noise, movement, and air around them stilled.
Save for him.
“Sir, I–”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Her eyes flung open at that, startled to hear the vicious curse from her otherwise restrained husband. In the shadowed hallway, Gio stood glaring at the bodyguard, his face a picture of cold fury. His shirtsleeves were half-rolled up as if he’d arrived in a rush.
The other man bowed his head apologetically, and she belatedly realized, after inspecting his features more clearly, that he was someone entirely new.
Not him.
Shame filled her, along with painful embarrassment. What was wrong with her?
The two men were arguing, but she barely registered it. Wiping a hand over her clammy face, she turned away and breathed shallowly. Spots still danced around her eyes. At the muffled crunch under her shoes, she paused and noticed broken blue glass on the floor. Glinting. Mocking her madness.
“Ana?” Gio’s voice was soft. Too soft.
As if worried that she would break too.
Numb, she glanced back and saw that the guard was gone. “I dismissed him,” Gio explained. He searched her face intently before reaching for her hand.
“Come.”
“The vase–”
“The staff will clean it.”
What little light lingered by the staircase was soon extinguished as they headed toward the bedroom. No lamps were lit in this part of the hallway, and her pulse picked up, remembering another hallway just like this, where she’d been trapped by the guard. Only Gio’s hand, clasped firmly around hers, anchored her as she blindly ambled along. Scared of what lay beyond.
Gio opened the bedroom doors, and she noticed with relief that the lights were on. Some of Gio’s work items and his phone were lying on the sofa. At the far end, the windows were cracked open, making the curtains ripple intermittently.
