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    GIANNI

    Iknow that what I’m hearing isn’t the alert beeping on my phone. There’s only one reason for that alert to go off the way it did when I tested the software of the app, now shing a notification across my screen. I know Caterina is not stupid enough to do something irrational, or at least I hope not. Yet there’s no ignoring the notification.Vehicle in motion.

    I’m alone in the office while Roger digs deeper into the Ken situation, leaving me no one to growl at in frustration and disbelief while I open the app to see what the fuck is happening. There must be a bug in the app. Probably a malfunction or something because there was no way she would leave the house without bothering to tell me.

    The blue dot moving across the map confirms my biggest fear. She’s on the move, and she left without letting me know. No, that’s not true–checking my messages, I see she sent a text.

    Caterina: I’m going for a drive and will be back soon. Nathan ising with me. Don’t worry. I just need some air.

    Because there’s no air out by the pool or elsewhere on the property? Damn it, she should know better than this. After everything she’s been through, she’s going to drive around for no reason? And why the hell didn’t Nathan tell me?

    I’m out of the chair and on the way outside before there’s time to think. This is not a situation where thinking is a luxury I can afford. I need to find her now. A call to her phone gets me her voicemail, which leads to me mming the car door closed before sending gravel flying in my wake as I start the engine and fly down the driveway

    The dot is still moving. She’s a few miles away. Where could she go in the early afternoon? What was so important she couldn’t think twice before putting herself and our baby in danger?

    I’m less than a mile from her when shees to a stop… in the cemetery.

    Some of the burning pain in my chest subsides, though not all of it. She went to the cemetery. “How am I supposed to protect someone who refuses to be protected?” I growl, hitting the gas when the light turns green. I follow the route to where my insolent, stubborn little bird decided she had to be today.

    Theck of other visitors is a plus. There are no other cars besides mine and the familiar Coro parked up ahead. I slow down to avoid being spotted right away. If she’s in a jumpy mood, she might decide to run, and there’s not much I feel less like doing than weaving through headstones to catch her.

    Nathan looks like he swallowed his tongue when he spots me from his position beside her car. No doubt he remembers that broken nose–it hasn’t been too long since I broke it. We’ll have a talkter about reporting to me rather than making me chase Caterina around. This could have been avoided if he’dmunicated with me. For now, it’s enough to find out why she had toe here so suddenly.

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    There she is.

    My heart thunders in my chest. She is kneeling on bthe /bground, wearing a yellow sweater that makes her stand out against the blue sky and greenery. Might as well paint a target on her back and blow a whistle to attract the attention of anyone looking to hurt me by hurting her.

    Any hint of anger evaporates once I see her covering her hands with her face. If an artist tried to capture the essence of grief, they couldn’t do better than what I see once I climb out of the car and watch from over the roof. There she is, my little bird, crumbling under the weight of her pain. Her slumped shoulders shake with unfathomable emotion. Nobody needs to tell me whose grave she’s kneeling at.

    She can’t know about my connection to Jessica’s murder. She can’t. Only Roger and I know about that, and we’re still working with theories. There’s no solid proof of who pulled that trigger. Still, my heart clenches in fear that takes time to ease. bI’m /bbeing paranoid, imagining ghosts in the shadows. This isn’t the time for my imagination to run away from me.

    What would bring her here?That’s a stupid question which doesn’t take much thought to answer. She’s missing her mother, probably now more than ever. There must be questions, along with fears and concerns, she doesn’t feelfortable bringing to me–or wouldn’t if she was speaking to me, which she still isn’t.

    I’ve never carried a baby and was shamefully absent for most of Amalia’s pregnancy. We lived under the same roof, but I was too busy building what would be my empire. I couldn’t be bothered with doctor’s appointments and shopping for furniture, aches and pains, or cravings. Tatiana owned my heart the moment we locked eyes, however. Still, before then, I didn’t think much about everything that went into bringing her into the world.

    That’s on me.That’s something I will have to live with, along with so many other mistakes and oversights.

    Even if I had been more present, there’s no substitute for firsthand experience. I don’t know how it feels to carry life the way Caterina can. I can’t rte to what it means, bringing a life into the world that she wasn’t ready for. This should be a joyful, happy time in her life, and I took that away from her–that and so many other things. In my life, I feel guilty for very few things, for if I allowed myself to feel remorse for all the things I’ve done, it would kill me.

    Nheless, the guilt I feel for hurting Caterina. Nothing touches that pain. It’s one I feel with every y beat of my heart, every breath of air into my lungs. I did this to keep her at my side, but inevitably it was the one thing that pushed her the furthest away.

    I can’t help how my feet automatically take me to her, carrying me through the thick grass. She can hate me all she wants, but there is no chance of me standing by and watching her suffer without at least letting her know I’m here. I’m finally starting to understand I can’t take the pain she feels away, but I can ask her toy some of it on my shoulders.

    I have rushed into buildings knowing a gunman could be waiting for me to enter. I’ve faced virtually every form of threat known to man. All that was nothingpared to this, approaching the woman I love with every ounce of me. There’s no guarantee of how she’ll react or if following her here is thest straw. I would have to ept that if it is. She’s not going to get me to change my

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    fundamental nature.

    I don’t know what alerts her to my presence. There’s no snapping of a twig, no sudden disturbance to make her lift her head and look around. I’m standing downwind, so I doubt she picks up the smell of my cologne. Whatever it is, it leaves her staring at me, her expression bleak, tearful.

    “What are you doing here?” she asks with a soft, defeated sigh. There’s no surprise, no attempt at defending herself as I slowly approach.

    “Following you.”

    Another sigh. “Of course you were.” The disdain in those four words leaves me bristling, while at the same time I feel roughly two inches tall. How does she manage to do that?

    “What do you want me to do?” All she does is turn her face away, which is rtively harder to deal with than if she had hurled insults at me. “In case you’ve forgotten–and I know you haven’t–you were kidnapped recently. And all you were doing was something as innocent as going to work. Excuse me if, in the days after that, I overreacted and installed a tracking system on your car.‘

    “Once again,” she seethes, still looking away, “you did it without talking to me about it.”

    “I did what I thought was right. The only things that matter to me are you, our baby, and the safety of you both.”

    Those magic words send her head swiveling around, eyes zing. “That isn’t the point, Gianni. Don’t you get it? I’m not even arguing the idea of having you track my car. I understand why it makes you feel more secure after what happened. And honestly, I wouldn’t mind you always knowing where my car is when I leave–even though I don’t necessarily love the idea of you being able to follow me around. Besides, tracking my car wouldn’t have helped things.”

    “You’re right. That does make sense.”

    Her gaze narrows. “You’re just saying that.”

    “No, I’m not. What you said makes sense. I didn’t think of it that way.”

    “This wouldn’t be an example of telling me what I want to hear just to make things better between us, would it?”