Page 28 of Rebel Protector

He had no choice but to trust Becca.

He just had to hope she was brave enough to trust him back.

CHAPTER 10

There was a culinary crisis in the kitchen, so Becca didn’t see Dom leave. The spoiled lamb had derailed the dinner plans, and now, the staff were scrambling to come up with a last-minute alternative. As she darted back and forth between the kitchen and the storeroom, her mind wandered back tohim.

Tonight. He’d come tonight.

A delicious shiver ran down her spine. It had been three days since she’d seen him—three long days of thinking about wrapping herself around that hard, chiseled body and giving in to the desire that simmered just beneath the surface. But that’s all it was. A dream. A tantalizing, forbidden fantasy she could never act on again.

Never.

Dom was bad news. Guns, blurred lines, danger. The trifecta of everything she’d sworn to avoid. He ticked every single one of those boxes with a big, fat, permanent marker.

But damn it, that didn’t make it any easier to stay away. She sighed, knowing she was in trouble. She was falling for him, and there was no use denying it anymore. The first step to healingis admitting you have a problem, right? Well, there it was. Dom was her problem. One she couldn’t afford to have.

The spoiled lamb had to be replaced with something quick, so she gave orders to the staff to whip up a batch of fresh seafood from the stockpile. Markov wouldn’t tolerate anything less than a perfect meal, and they were already on thin ice after last week’s fiasco.

Ramirez, however, was an easier mark. He made it a habit to eat at the villa most nights, despite whatever drama was brewing at home. Becca kept a room ready for him, knowing full well that his overnights were usually triggered by a fight with his wife or an overdose of wine at dinner. The villa had become his second home.

Becca dealt with the crisis, issuing instructions to the staff and checking the final arrangements for the new menu. But as she made her way back towards Markov’s study, she saw Carlos sprinting past her, a rare sight. Carlos didn’t run unless something serious was happening. A knot formed in her stomach.

From behind the study door, she could hear raised voices—Markov, Ramirez, and Carlos, all shouting over one another. Becca hesitated just outside, her hand hovering over the doorknob, torn between curiosity and the fear of getting caught eavesdropping.

Before she could decide, the door flew open, and Ramirez stormed out, fury etched into every line of his face.

Becca watched from the window as he marched around the back of the villa, straight to his armored Mercedes. He was in a rage, practically vibrating with anger as he climbed inside, slamming the door so hard it made her flinch. A second later, he tore down the driveway, tires squealing.

What the hell just happened?

Unable to resist, she pushed open Markov’s office door. “What’s going on?” she asked, stepping inside cautiously.

Her boss was pacing, his expression tight with frustration. “The stupid bastard,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Becca had never seen him so rattled. She turned toward Carlos, who stood near the window, staring after Ramirez with an inscrutable look on his face.

“Alek?” she pressed, her voice softer now.

Markov stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes dark with something close to regret. “Brace yourself,” he said, his voice gruff. “Chrissy was killed in a car accident. It happened about an hour ago.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her legs giving out as she collapsed into the nearest chair.

Chrissy, dead?

It didn’t seem possible. She’d just spoken to her just last night—heard her laugh, listened to her vent about Ramirez.

Now, she was gone?

Becca’s mind reeled, struggling to keep up with the shock.

“Are they sure it’s her?” Becca asked, clinging to a thread of hope. “The au pair sometimes drives her car. Maybe it wasn’t Chrissy?—”

Markov cut her off with a grim nod. “It’s her. Ramirez spoke to the au pair. She’s gone to collect the girls from school. He’s on his way there now to break the news.”

“Those poor kids,” Becca murmured, her voice hollow.

What the hell had happened?