Catching Bianca: A Dark Mafia Romance (Shadows of Obsession Book 4)
Catching Bianca: Chapter 12

The trunk of my Jeep closes with a soft click, stacked to the limit with equipment and luggage. Both mine and Arthur’s.

He’s so excited Carter trusts him enough to appoint him Bianca’s security detail that he’s almost levitating three inches off the pavement as he grabs the passenger-side door handle.

“Would you prefer day shift or night shift?” he asks, jumping in and buckling up, a bright grin adorning his rested face.

“Night shift is yours.” I pull away from the curb, heading across town to pick up Bianca.

I don’t elaborate.

I don’t tell him that I’d let him entertain Bianca during the day if I trusted him enough.

He’s new.

He hasn’t lived through enough high-adrenaline situations so he wouldn’t know what to do if Noretto or his goons arrived at Bianca’s flower shop.

I’m afraid he’d freeze if someone aimed a gun at him.

It’s best he keeps night watch. He can alert me if anything seems off and I’ll be right there to lead the charge. The alarms I plan on activating in Bianca’s apartment will have me up and ready before Arthur can summon me—the blessing and curse of being a light sleeper.

If it was Koby beside me, he could trail after her all day long. Judging by their smiles and the blush-inducing winks he sent her way all evening, they’d get along fine.

I fucking hate it.

The green monster inside me pawed the dirt, ready to strike Koby’s jugular. At the same time, my rational side thought let him have her, she’s not your type.

My initial fascination with her when she arrived at Scarlett, tearful, helpless, and with a sad look marring her face, hit hard. I wasn’t all that surprised considering I’d spent every waking minute for the last three months thinking about Bianca. But as soon as she buried her hurt deep down and put on her armor, that fascination switched off.

It switched back on at the helplessness shining in her honey-colored eyes when she talked about Vaughn, and off again when she schooled her features and argued with Carter about staying in Columbus.

On and off.

On and off.

On and off.

It’s making me nauseous.

Whenever she buries her true feelings, putting up a tough-girl act, my interest in her dies.

I may be getting ahead of myself, but the idea of Bianca and me in an intimate position crossed my mind a few times.

Well, a bit more than a few.

I’ve not been laid in longer than I care to admit, because I’ve had to spend hours upon hours staring at the girl, reading her posts online, flicking through her photos… so you can’t blame a red-blooded man’s imagination for wandering.

She’s gorgeous.

I wouldn’t mind a moan-filled night with her, regardless of her hot-and-cold attitude, but the guarded façade is not my thing.

Every man has a type. While Bianca ticks my boxes on the outside, her personality’s a turnoff. I like girls who are strong-willed. Opinionated but delicate and sweet at the same time. Those who wear their hearts on their sleeves. Those who don’t fight for independence as if they live and breathe feminism.

“How long are we staying in Cleveland?” Arthur asks, derailing my thoughts.

It’s for the best.

Bianca spends way too much time inside my head.

“As long as it takes.” As long as it takes Bianca to realize she’ll be much safer in Columbus under Carter’s full protection.

At least that’s what Hailey whispered in my ear last night when I was on my way out. It almost sounded like she hoped I’d stage a scare that’d coerce Bianca into living with her and Carter. As lovely as Hailey is, I wouldn’t put a scheme like that past her, despite having Bianca’s best interest at heart.

“Fair enough,” Arthur says, rubbing his palms down his thighs while his knee bounces in nervous excitement. “Are we staying with her?”

“That’s the general idea of security detail. We breathe down her neck day and night.”

He nods a few times, either agreeing, letting me know he understands, or shaking his nerves off. “Koby and Broadway drilled me all morning about everything I’m supposed to do and look out for. I won’t let you down.”

“You better not. Eyes and ears open at all times. If I catch you sleeping on the job—”

“You’ll use me as your personal punching bag,” he finishes. “I know, Koby told me you like throwing your fists.”

“I much prefer my fists to a gun, but no, I won’t use you as a punching bag. I’ll send you straight back to Columbus so you can explain yourself to Carter and Hailey.” I flick the indicator on, turning onto Carter’s driveway. “And trust me, you don’t want to anger the boss’s girl.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen her wipe the floors with Carter more than once.”

“Now, that’s the kind of comment you shouldn’t say aloud. Someone might get the wrong impression and suspect you think Carter’s weak.”

His head swings to me. “No, no, no, that’s not what—”

“Relax, I’m joking.”

I throw the car into a parking space outside the enormous mansion Carter calls home and cut the engine. The guard at the front door bows his head before letting us inside.

Arthur is three steps behind me like an oversized shadow. He’s an inch or two shorter than Apollo, and that guy’s over seven feet tall.

We cross the entrance hall, entering the living area where Hailey’s on the couch, legs tucked under her butt, body angled toward Bianca.

Once again, I’m held captive by how fucking gorgeous Bianca is. She doesn’t look like Hailey, though they’re both short. Both petite. Still, the contrast between Hailey’s blonde head and blue eyes and Bianca’s honey eyes and dark, straight hair is jarring. They’re like two ends of a spectrum.

“Morning,” I say, heading straight for the huge fridge while Arthur hangs back in the doorway. “Ready for the road?”

“You said noon,” Hailey clips, accusation dripping from her words. “It’s not even eleven yet.”

“I also said that the sooner we leave, the more systems I can get set up before nightfall. Where’s Carter?”

“He left ten minutes ago. Broadway needed him.”

Bianca rises from her seat, the dark shadows under her eyes lighter this morning. I chug from the water bottle, grabbing three more for the road. Hailey and Bianca say their goodbyes. It’s an awkward scene to witness.

While Hailey’s a natural hugger, her enthusiasm contagious, Bianca stands there, stiffer than a board, clearly uncomfortable with affection… figures.

“Ready when you are,” she says, stepping out of Hailey’s embrace sooner than her younger sister would like, I’m sure.

“You’re riding in the back,” I tell Arthur, holding the passenger door open for Bianca.

Rule number one of keeping someone safe is never letting them out of sight. While I’d have eyes on Bianca if she sat in the back, I’m bending the rules for my own benefit.

She might be far from my type in terms of personality, but her sweet scent isn’t something I can deny myself.

Hailey waves from the main entrance before the guard there orders her back inside where she’s safe.

I start the engine, falling short of pulling away when Bianca’s dramatic arrival last night echoes inside my head.

“Show me your arm.”

She cocks her dark brow, glancing at her long-sleeved, baby-blue sweater. “Excuse me?”

“Your arm. The one the cab driver grabbed. Show me.”

Her posture stiffens, combat-ready in a flash. “You think you can order me around? Think again.” And much quieter, like she’s talking to herself, she adds, “I bet Koby wouldn’t be such an ass.”

A silent tantrum ensues inside my head, jealousy flaring behind my ribs and lighting my fuse.

“We need to trust each other if you’re supposed to keep me safe, right?” she continues, unaware how mentioning Koby affects me. “My arm’s fine. No bruises.”

“Did I say tell me or show me?” I spit out. “I don’t need your trust. I need your survival instincts and those will kick in when required. Now, either you show me your bruise-less arm or the cab driver’s losing ten fingers.”

Her lips part, surprise sparkling in her eyes. Had I not spent weeks flicking through her pictures, this would be the first time I’d have noticed the little gold flecks in her left iris.

“You’re not as tame as you come across, are you?” She yanks the sleeve of her jumper just shy of hard enough to tear it off. “There. Not one bruise. Happy? I’m tougher than I look.”

That one line coupled with the rebellious look on her face acts like a bucket of cold water over my head.

She is tough and I fucking hate it.

Jealousy hisses out of me like air from a punctured lung.

“I noticed,” I grit out, twisting her arm left and right, checking from every angle. Once I’m happy there’s not a mark on her, I let go. Too bad the tingling in my fingertips doesn’t stop. “Thank you. Next time, don’t argue.”

Another scoff leaves her lips and she ostentatiously turns away, admiring the view outside the window. We’re still parked outside Carter’s house, so there’s nothing to see, but she scans the brickwork with such intent you’d think she’s an architect.

How can a girl be so titillating yet so infuriating?

Keeping her safe will be torture, I can tell.

***

For the first part of the ride, Arthur tried lightening the mood with conversation, but after grumbled replies from moody Bianca, he dropped the act and busied himself with his phone.

It’s amazing how long a girl can stew before exploding. Almost the whole ride to Cleveland crawls by before she turns my way, opening those full, kissable lips to spit out venom.

“If you think I’ll do as you say anytime you bark at me, think again. I don’t react well to being bossed around.”

I noticed.

“Duly noted. My job is keeping you alive. We can either argue every step of the way, or you agree not to be difficult, and we ignore each other unless things go sideways.”

She chews her bottom lip, eyes narrowed. With an exasperated sigh, she gives me a curt nod. “Deal.”

Somehow, I don’t believe her. There’s too much fire in this girl. Too much need for confrontation and proving her worth. She won’t make my life easy.

Ten minutes later, I park outside Bianca’s apartment building. Years of working the job push my skills to the forefront as I exit the car. Swinging my head every which way, I scan the street, locating city security cameras, then count the shops lining both sides of the road, which might have their own.

“Is this where you work?” I ask, pointing at a florist right beneath Bianca’s apartment. It’s closed, the sign above the door spelling out Bloom.

“I own this place,” she corrects, asserting her independence.

One heartbeat later, she smiles. Her features soften, summoning back that alluring innocence.

It twists my gut.

She marches right up to the window and her smile slips, leaving her face hard and cold when she spots the rows of dead plants lining the shelves inside.

“I guess I should’ve known nothing would survive three months without water.” She sighs, turning around. She looks almost sad, that arousing softness returning for a few seconds.

“Lead the way,” I say, grabbing two duffel bags full of equipment from the trunk.

It took as little as me opening my mouth for her to mask all emotions save for cold calculation.

Arthur can run himself breathless up and down the stairs with the rest of the luggage. It’s almost one in the afternoon, which means time for work if I want to secure the apartment, at least with basic measures, by sundown.

Bianca pulls a set of keys from her small clutch bag while we climb the stairs to the second floor, then navigate a narrow corridor, doors on both sides, until she stops before number eleven, shoving the key in the lock.

One step over the threshold, she glances around as if making sure her home is clean before she steps aside, letting us in. She shouldn’t have worried. The place is spotless, cozy, and claustrophobic.

The living room, kitchen, and dining area would all comfortably fit inside my bedroom. Her furniture is crammed in so tight there’s little floor space. Two open doors on the left lead into the bedrooms, so the one on the right must be the bathroom.

Bianca turns on her heel once she reaches the kitchenette. Her weary eyes jump between me and Arthur while we pile the luggage by the wall, further cramming the space.

“There are only two bedrooms,” she says, twisting her fingers in the hem of her sweater. “How—?”

“I’ll take the couch,” Arthur offers, pointing at the loveseat.

I doubt even half of his body would fit. Even if he could somehow fold himself in half, he’ll be sleeping during the day. We’ll either disrupt his rest while moving about or be forced to tiptoe around him for hours on end.

Neither scenario works.

Good job I anticipated this and packed accordingly. “No, you’re taking the bedroom.”

“You’re sleeping on the loveseat?” Bianca asks, raising a skeptical brow. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can—”

“I packed an inflatable bed.”

“I’ll take that,” Arthur offers, keen to sacrifice his comfort as if it’ll help him climb the ladder.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” I open the first duffel bag on the coffee table. “Go grab the rest of our stuff.”

He bobs his head, marching out of the apartment, his footsteps echoing down the corridor long after the door’s closed behind him.

Bianca saunters over to the kitchen, huffing and puffing into the empty cabinets. She doesn’t say a word until Arthur returns. Looks like she feels more comfortable around him.

“We should go grocery shopping.” She throws a load of expired food into the trashcan while I fetch a wad of cash from my wallet, handing it to Arthur.

“You drive, don’t you?”

He eyes the money and my car keys, his glee unmistakable. I wonder if I looked the same when I started in Carter’s ranks.

It’s possible, the man became a legend as Dante’s right-hand man, and I was all too keen to be part of his team.

“Yeah, I drive, Boss.”

“Don’t call me that. Carter’s your boss, not me. Take Bianca shopping. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

My gut twists once more, instincts rebelling against letting her out of my sight.

Fuck. I should get a hold of that possessive streak.

She’s nothing more than a job. A task. Carter’s order.

An asset requiring protection.

Then why is a part of me screaming at the thought of not having her within reach?