7) Shut Up Woman

"The fake wife algorithm won't work on me," I said, chewing the strawberry. "Besides, I have wonderful virtual friends in Turkey. We met through cybersecurity forums. In fact, I even have a slightly crazy writer friend I talk to online. At the very least, I can snap a few selfies by the Walls of Istanbul before getting deported, so you'd better worry about yourself."

I was just about to bite into the second half of the strawberry when the sound hit.

RATATATATATATATA!

This was nothing like the muffled, distant gunfire we had heard off the coast of Crete. This time, the bullets were slamming directly into the windows of the yacht's luxury salon. As the massive glass panes shattered with a thunderous crash, spraying thousands of crystal shards into the room, every single frequency calculation in my mind cut out like a knife.

"Get down!" Matteo roared.

Before I could even process what was happening or whether the strawberry would lodge itself in my throat, I saw a massive shadow launching through the air. With a split-second reflex, Matteo vaulted across the table toward me. His massive, muscular, and heavy body pinned me directly onto the leather sofa, sealing me between his chest and the cushions.

As bullets whizzed right over my head, shredding the wooden panels behind us, Matteo’s rigid chest completely enveloped me. One of his hands tightly gripped the back of my neck, burying my head securely into the crook of his collarbone.

Right next to my ear, I could hear Matteo’s heart hammering at a rate of at least 160 beats per minute. As my nose was flooded with the scent of whiskey, sea salt, and his expensive cologne, I didn't even register the sting of the glass shards raining down on my face. For the first time in my life, another human's warmth, scent, and skin were overwhelming me this intensely. Normally, a stranger being this close would trigger an immediate panic attack, but Matteo’s massive frame, completely isolating me from the rest of the world, bizarrely silenced all the noise inside my head.

While extending his rifle with one hand over my head and firing a few blind rounds into the chaos outside, Matteo hissed through his teeth:

"I should just send you to that crazy friend of yours as a can of cat food," he rasped, his voice sounding as clear and chilling as a general's, even amidst the roar of gunfire. "...at least the stray cats can have a feast."

I knit my brows and blinked against the blaring sirens of approaching boats.

"Actually, I've heard that human flesh is highly unpalatable. I'm likely too muscular, so I would cause severe indigestion, and they'd need to drink a lot of mineral sparkling water to settle their stomachs. Oh, sweetie, come on, Matteo... how are poor little kitties supposed to drink sparkling water to soothe their bellies? We'd be doing them more harm than good. I hope you don't own any pets..." I said, blinking up at him.

"Oh my god! Don't tell me you use the people you eliminate to feed and dispose of evidence to your pets! Is that why you kept me alive? You probably have a massive Doberman, and I wouldn't even make a decent toothpick for its teeth. It's really not worth drawing blood over, and—"

"SHUT UP, WOMAN!"