My name is Eveline. Eveline Tate.
I am the daughter of Lucas and Rebecca Tate. Yup, THE Lucas and Becca Tate. Don't ask me why, but I grew up knowing that they are someone important. Uncle Mike is still working for dad, as his bodyguard. I used to...
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I frown, hearing Pedro telling me about the call and my jaws clench tight as I know a call from Italy is not a piece of good news.
I've left Mario in charge and specifically instructed him not to call unless it was an emergency.
This call means an emergency. This call means things are going bad back home. I know Mario and I trust him with my life.
I throw a cover over Eve's naked goddess body while she's already piercing me with her green eyes, gauging in surprise and alarmed by my rough tone.
God, she's sweet!
I hardly rip my eyes from her and wrap a towel around my waist, my brain already knitting plans. Plans to put Eve in a safe place. Plans to get back to Napoli as soon as possible. Shit is hitting the fan over there.
Cracking the door, I take the phone from Pedro and give him instructions to turn the yacht back into the port.
"Siamo tornando, Pedro. Presto!" I tell the old man who nods and rushes back to complete my orders. (We're going back, Pedro. Fast!)
"Parlarmi!" I bark in the phone, walking out on the small patio of the cabin while I catch Eve from the corner of my eyes pulling the covers tighter around herself and her stare darkens in worry. (Talk to me).
I know she understands more than one would believe, and I really don't want her to witness me lashing at my men.
Well, at least not yet. She's her father's daughter, she knows who we are, and she can read on our faces better than a fucking fortune-teller.
My mind starts building plans of keeping her away from the mess of Italy, and having this call right now almost makes me happy that Lucas hasn't agreed with her traveling.
Most probably I'm going to have to let some of my guys behind to keep her safe, whether she likes it or not. Lucas will understand for sure, especially that now he's not on very good terms with his daughter.
He used to insanely increase the security of their house when the situation requested it, and both she and her mother could not go out unless they were having Mike and Lucas' hitmen around.
Sometimes there were months they would stay put and on high alert. The good part was that back then Eve was just a child and easily kept under control.
But now, Eve that I'm discovering is ready to grab a gun and shoot, shoulder to shoulder with her father, which is not exactly a bad thing but at the same time, it means that she can't be controlled, and if I'm not sure I have her safe... well... hell will reign the earth and I'll be the ruler.
I glare at her through the glass walls and she looks scared, staring at me in expectation and I hate that look in her eyes. She should fear nothing. She should never have to fear.
