The Billionaire’s Prodigal Wife (Mackenna and Alessandro) novel Chapter 29

The sound of Romeo scratching at the bathroom door roused her daydreams. She had leaned against the shower wall, her glass now more water than wine, her throat raw and her eyes bloodshot.

A knock on her door followed by Nuncio asking if she was still alive made her realize she'd been in too long.

"I'm fine. Why are you still here?" She yelled through the door.

"Because I am worried one of those crazy reporters will break into your apartment. Deadbolt or not, this building is not secure, and I am concerned for your safety."

"Tell your boss to go back to Italy and take them with him," she offered unhelpfully as she wrapped up in her robe, shivering as the cool air hit her skin. She pulled her book up into her arms and opened the door to find him standing there with his arms folded. "l fell asleep in the shower, I didn't drown. I'm fine." She walked past him toward her bedroom.

"Mackenna, you did not eat." Nuncio called out to her.

"I'm not hungry," she responded frustrated at the invasion of her privacy. "Can you please just go back to wherever it is you're staying."

"l don't think you understand, I am here because it is unsafe for you to remain here alone. You have your choice of me or another security agent but one of us is staying in this apartment with you until the throng of reporters outside is gone. The alternative is to move to a more secure location."

She grimaced as she realized his meaning, "I'm not going to the hotel. They won't leave until your employer vacates the country. He needs to go away."

"Well according to him, he's not going anywhere." Nuncio informed her.

Mackenna cursed under her breath and slammed her bedroom door behind her, flinging herself dramatically on her bed. She noted Nuncio had closed the blinds of their basement apartment. It would be too easy for someone to get a photo of her in here. She rolled onto her belly and pulled her pillow into her face and screamed into it. She grabbed her phone and sent a text message to Savannah warning her of their in the early hours of the morning.

She could hear Nuncio talking on his phone again and she rolled her eyes as she heard him say something about the fact she had gone to bed without food.

Tattle-tale," she rolled her eyes as she pushed herself off the bed. Sli pping into a pair of shorts and a tank top before throwing her robe back over it to keep the chill off, she decided she was tired of bossy men in her life. Grabbing her empty wine glass, her book and the last of her dignity, she marched back to the kitchen. She ignored Nuncio's surprised stare as she poured another glass of wine before plunking a slice of bread into the toaster.

Keeping her back to him, she stared out the tiny kitchen window into the back yard before noting someone sat in the darkness in the alley. A flash of a camera caught her eye. She gave them a wave before drawing the curtains to a close. "Hey

Nuncio, someone with a camera is in the alley."

"l will notify my team outside. They will take care of this. Just keep the curtains closed." He stepped into the kitchen. "You need to eat more than toast," he chastised.

"Nuncio, I can accept you're not leaving but you need to stop telling me what to do. If I wanted an overbearing jerk telling me what to do, I'd invite my husband over."

She didn't meet his gaze as she took her book and strode past him toward the oversized chair in the living room, "and he is the very last person I want to see.

Her phone buzzed as Savannah responded to her message with a series of emojis clearly demonstrating her displeasure. She gave a wicked grin at the subsequent message where Savannah mentioned where Nuncio should put the vegetable emojis she had shared and replied quickly before looking up to see Nuncio watching her intently. "Now what?"

"You are pale, thin and you do not eat."

"I'm in mourning," she held his gaze.

He gave a rueful glance and rifled his fingers through his hair. "Mackenna, I'm sorry I let you go that day. If I had done my job...

guilty for losing track of hen "Nuncio, none of this is your fault. There is only one person to blame and he's sitting in a jail cell in Italy right now."

"Perhaps but," he started to speak again.

"We're not talking about this again because if I have to start assigning blame, I'm going to have an exceedingly difficult time looking in the mirror and I'm not prepared to do that. Please just stop with the pity and the misguided sense of concern. I am fine. I will be fine."

A knock on the door made her jump.

"It is fine. I ordered food. I asked my security to bring it down. You need to eat something more than a slice of toast and a lot of wine." Nuncio offered gently. "l ordered pasta carbonara for you with some garlic cheesy bread."

"Sounds like you asked someone for food recommendations," she wanted to be angry but had nothing left to give.

She sat with her book on her lap staring into the light of her lamp. She heard Nuncio arguing with whoever from his team was bringing the food down to the basement apartment and considered for a moment perhaps the press had intercepted the delivery person because he sounded furious.

Then she heard the other man's voice and felt her stomach drop to her feet. The man was relentless, and she was too tired. She remained in her seat as Nuncio gave his employer an earful, telling him Mackenna needed rest and care and did not need to be disrupted by an impatient man, She suddenly liked Nuncio very much. He was taking the job of protecting her very seriously.