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EPILOGUE
publish date:
2026-07-31 16:41:29
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HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD EPILOGUE
EPILOGUEGINA’S POVThere is something beautifully ironic about how life refuses to end where you think it will. Exactly one year ago, I genuinely believed my story had already been written. I thought my future consisted of pretending to smile beside a husband who had broken me piece by piece until I no longer recognized the woman staring back from the mirror. I believed I would spend decades trapped inside a marriage held together by contracts, public appearances, and carefully rehearsed lies. Back then, happiness felt like something that happened to other people. I had convinced myself that surviving was the best I could hope for. Looking back now, I almost want to hug that version of myself. She had absolutely no idea that everything falling apart was simply making room for something infinitely better.The Washington empire no longer exists in the form the world once worshipped. The board removed Mark as Chief Executive Officer within weeks of the investigations becoming public. On
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 54. THE RESCUE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOURTHE RESCUEDANTE’S POVThere are moments in a man's life when everything slows down so completely that every decision feels carved into stone. Standing inside Mark Washington's office with my phone pressed against my ear is one of those moments. The revelation that Gina is alive should have been enough to loosen the iron band crushing my ribs, yet it only tightens when my operative finishes explaining exactly where she is. An abandoned private estate belonging to Richard Washington, hidden nearly forty miles outside Manhattan, surrounded by woodland and protected by enough former military contractors to discourage curiosity. Not official security. Personal loyalists. Men who have worked for Richard for decades and whose salaries have never appeared on any corporate payroll. Ghosts. The kind of men wealthy monsters keep for the jobs that cannot survive daylight. The realization chills me more than I care to admit. Richard didn't simply kidnap Gina. He planned it car
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 53. THE TRUTH
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREEDANTE’S POVTHE TRUTHThe moment Gina's phone goes straight to voicemail for the third time, something inside me snaps. It isn't panic at first. Panic is messy. Loud. What I feel is something far more dangerous—a cold, methodical certainty that something has gone catastrophically wrong. Gina never ignores my calls after therapy. She never skips her morning run without telling someone. She is predictable in the small ways people never notice until those patterns disappear. Her smartwatch stopped transmitting fifteen minutes ago. The GPS tracker hidden beneath the chassis of her car shows it parked exactly where it should be. Rita tells me Gina left through the front gates just after dawn wearing black leggings, a gray hoodie and running shoes, saying she wanted fresh air before breakfast. Security cameras capture her leaving. They never capture her returning. By the time I reach the trail, every instinct I've spent years sharpening tells me exactly what I already k
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 52. KIDNAPPED
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWOGINA’S POVKIDNAPPEDMorning usually grants me a brief illusion that life still belongs to me. Before the endless pretending begins, before I have to smile for people who would happily dissect my misery over brunch, before therapists encourage me to excavate wounds I have spent years burying beneath discipline and perfection, there exists this small pocket of silence where I can simply breathe. It is why I run. Not because I enjoy the exercise, but because the rhythm of my footsteps has always been the closest thing I have found to peace. Every stride drowns out another intrusive thought, every mile pushes the ache in my chest a little farther away, and for the duration of that run, I am not Gina Washington, billionaire's wife, scandal survivor, or national headline. I am simply Gina, a woman trying desperately to remember who she was before love became synonymous with suffering.The mansion remains wrapped in the sleepy stillness of dawn as I quietly slip out throug
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 51. SHAKEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONESHAKENDANTE’S POVThe moment I step into Barbara Washington's private sitting room, I know something is wrong. She is already standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, one hand wrapped around a crystal glass of untouched whiskey, the other gripping the edge of the marble windowsill so tightly her knuckles have turned white. The television mounted on the opposite wall plays a business channel on mute while headlines crawl endlessly across the bottom of the screen, but her attention isn't on any of it. She's waiting for me. Pacing. Thinking. Panicking.The instant the door clicks shut behind me, she turns sharply."What happened?" she demands.No greeting. No carefully crafted pleasantries.Just the question.I close the distance between us before lowering my voice. "I got the prison recording."Barbara's expression hardens."And?"I slide a small encrypted flash drive onto the coffee table between us."I hacked into the prison surveillance syste
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 50. DANGER
CHAPTER FIFTYDANTE’S POVDANGERThe moment I see Gina walk through the prison's front entrance, every instinct I've spent years sharpening starts screaming that something is terribly wrong.I've watched people leave prisons before. Victims. Families. Witnesses. Men who'd just identified bodies. Women forced to testify against abusive husbands. There is always something in the way they move afterward. Grief has a rhythm. Anger has weight. Relief makes people breathe differently. But whatever has settled over Gina... I've never seen it before. She doesn't look angry. She doesn't look heartbroken. She doesn't even look frightened. She looks as though someone has reached inside her chest and quietly removed every thought from her mind, leaving behind only an empty shell that's somehow still capable of walking.I push myself off the SUV before she's even halfway across the parking lot. Usually, she notices me immediately. Usually, there's a sarcastic remark waiting on the tip of her tongue
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 1. HAPPY THIRD ANNIVERSARY
PROLOGUEI was seven years old, fully decked out in metal braces that glinted in the sunlight much to my chagrin and those wide-rimmed glasses that made my face look rounder than it already was, when the Washingtons moved across the street into the fanciest townhouse in Everwood Cove. The movers ha
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 25. ROSES & THORNS
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEROSES & THORNSMark and I have barely exchanged a single word since I walked back into this house. Not while I cleaned up the disaster he had been living in, not when he disappeared upstairs to pull himself together, and not even now as we sit across from each other at the dinin
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 4. TRUTH BOMB
CHAPTER FOUR: TRUTH BOMBHere I am again, bombarded by a sea of flashing cameras as I strike poses on the red carpet, Mark’s arm wrapped protectively around my waist. The clicks and flashes are relentless, each photographer vying for the perfect shot. We’re at the premiere of a movie Mark had finan
HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD 3. A LONELY NIGHT
CHAPTER THREE: A LONELY NIGHTDo you know what sucks more than your husband getting a PR crisis on your anniversary night? It’s knowing your best friend is miles away on a different continent, and asleep. I glance at the clock on my phone. It’s nearly four in the morning wherever she is, and I know
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