All Chapters of HER ITALIAN BODYGUARD : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

55 Chapters

41. DIVORCE & ADDICTION

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE DIVORCE & ADDICTION I have no idea how long I sit there staring at the bouquet that sits pleasantly on the table. The roses look almost unreal beneath the afternoon sunlight, their deep crimson petals rich against the black wrapping paper, beautiful in a way that feels excessive and unsettling all at once. Whoever sent them clearly wanted to make an impression.Mission accomplished. Eventually, I force myself to look away. Because the more I think about it, the stranger this entire situation becomes. Who the hell is this anonymous person? And more importantly, why do they care about me? What do they want from me? I am not some celebrity actress or socialite princess worthy of such obsessive grand gestures. Strip away the Washington name and I’m simply Gina, a surgeon who happened to marry a billionaire asshole young enough to mistake love for permanence. That is all there is to me. So why does it feel like someone is quietly inserting themselves into my life piece

42. ANOTHER WAY OUT

CHAPTER FORTY- TWOANOTHER WAY OUTI cannot let him win. By the time I head downstairs, the house has fallen quiet again. Rita and the rest of the staff keep out of sight whenever Mark and I fight now, as though the tension itself has become something physical lingering in the air. It’s like they can sense it whenever it’s all about to go down. The place that used to be a haven of peace, now is where the storm brews and I doubt Mark gives a shit anymore of how he looks. Afterall, they are all on his payroll. I eventually find Dante outside near the pool lounge area, stretched casually against one of the cushioned chairs with a half-empty beer in one hand and a copy of Crime and Punishment resting open across his lap. The late afternoon sunlight catches against his dark hair and sharp features, making him look unfairly beautiful in a way that instantly irritates me. Who knew he is a fan of Fyodor Dostoevsky. The moment he notices me approaching, he sighs heavily and shuts the book cl

43. A VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY

CHAPTER FORTY-THREEDANTE’S POVA VILLAIN ORIGIN STORYThe older woman paces across my office like a storm wrapped in couture, every movement radiating fury. Even angry, Barbara Washington looks immaculate, dressed head-to-toe in limited-edition Maison Valentino, pearls gleaming at her throat while rage darkens her elegant features. She looks nothing like the woman the world sees on red carpets beside her husband or hosting charity galas with a fabricated smile. That version of Barbara is carefully manufactured, polished so hard until it’s so flawless nobody stops to question what exactly the Washington family keeps hidden behind their billions. This version of her though? This is the real Barbara Washington. So full of pent-up anger and years of abhorring the man she is married to.“Are you fucking insane?” she hisses, finally turning toward me. “Everything I work for-everything we work for-and you are willing to risk it because what? You fall in love with Gina?”The accusation hits

44. VERY SCANDALOUS

CHAPTER FORTY-FOURDANTE’S POVVERY SCANDALOUSGina looks like she is seconds away from snapping. I can see it in the way her fingers tighten around the stem of her wine glass every single time another camera flash reflects against the restaurant windows. She hates this. Every second of it. The fake smiles. The clearly staged, lavish date night that should shut every wagging tongue. The secret paparazzi planted around the restaurant pretending they are ordinary guests even though they can barely hide their interest in their table.One idiot keeps glancing over every thirty seconds like he’s waiting for a zoo animal to perform. At first, Gina plays along. She smiles dreamily and when Mark speaks she even lets him touch her hand across the table. She even laughs softly at one of his stupid jokes while the cameras secretly capture their ‘perfect dinner date’ But then something changes. I notice it immediately because I’ve spent the last few weeks studying every shift in her mood like it’

45. RECKLESS

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVEGINA’S POVRECKLESSMark looks positively mortified. He has spent the last-I don't even know how long- barking orders into his phone, alternating between threatening his PR team, yelling at his lawyers, and demanding someone make everything disappear. Frankly, I've lost track. Somewhere between my fourth glass of wine and the flashing cameras outside the restaurant, I stopped caring. Actually, that's a lie.I care very much.I care because this is the first time since finding out about Evelyn that I've watched Mark Washington completely lose control. And it is glorious. The man who prides himself on composure, who treats every boardroom like his personal kingdom and every conversation like a negotiation he's already won, is unraveling right in front of me. His perfectly tailored suit is wrinkled. His expensive hair is no longer perfectly in place because he keeps dragging frustrated hands through it.The vein near his temple hasn't stopped throbbing for the last ten

46. FALLING

CHAPTER FORTY-SIXDANTE’S POVFALLINGSleep refuses to come no matter how hard I try to beckon it. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling of an apartment that has never felt like home, listening to the rhythmic hum of the air conditioner and the distant sirens drifting through Manhattan. Somewhere beyond these walls, millions of people are settling into bed after another ordinary night. Mine stopped being ordinary the moment Gina Washington walked into that club in Las Vegas wearing heartbreak disguised as confidence. Funny how one random night,one decision to um…finger-fuck a beautiful stranger in an elevator managed to reroute the trajectory of my entire goddamn life.The apartment is silent, almost unnaturally so. It is exactly how I designed it. Neutral furniture. Expensive enough to fit the identity of a highly paid executive bodyguard, impersonal enough that no one would suspect the man living here actually owns properties across three continents. There isn't a single photogra

47. A SMALL FEAT OF VICTORY

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVENGINA’S POVA SMALL FEAT OF VICTORYI have officially become America's favorite scandal.If someone had told me a few months ago that my face would be plastered across every gossip page, entertainment channel, business magazine, and political talk show in the country, I would have laughed them out of the room.Yet here we are.My name trends on every social media platform for the fourth consecutive day.Every time I open my phone, another notification appears.#JusticeForGina.#WashingtonScandal.#DivorceHimGina.Even people who have absolutely no idea who I’m have somehow developed incredibly strong opinions about my marriage.I don't know whether to laugh or cry.Probably both.I curl deeper into the oversized lounge chair beside the pool, one leg tucked underneath me while Rita's homemade strawberry smoothie sits forgotten on the little table beside me. The weather is gorgeous. Bright blue skies stretch endlessly overhead, birds chirp from somewhere beyond the perfectly

48. ADMISSION

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHTDANTE’S POVADMISSIONBy the time Barbara storms into my apartment, I already know this conversation is going to be ugly. The television mounted across the living room is muted, but it doesn't need sound for me to understand the disaster unfolding across every major news network. Gina's face occupies every screen. The video of her standing on top of the table at the Grand Pearl Hotel has gone viral in less than twelve hours. I had let it leak. I just hated him that much.One headline calls her America's Most Unfiltered Billionaire Wife. Another labels her The Woman Who Exposed New York's Golden Couple. Every social media platform is dissecting every second of the footage frame by frame, lip-reading her words, analyzing Mark's expression, speculating about Evelyn, about the pregnancy, about the Washington empire.Exactly what Barbara and I had wanted just not this soon. The plan had always been calculated. Controlled. A thousand tiny fractures until the Washington n

49. THERAPY SESSION

CHAPTER FORTY-NINETHERAPY SESSIONGINA’S POVI hate therapists.Correction.I hate therapists who refuse to let me lie.Harper's office is exactly the same as it was last week. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook Manhattan in all its arrogant glory, sunlight bouncing off skyscrapers as if the city itself has never known tragedy. There is still that ridiculously expensive abstract painting hanging behind her desk that I still don't understand, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the room, and the soft instrumental music drifting through hidden speakers.Everything about this place is designed to make people feel safe.Unfortunately for Harper Lee, I don't particularly enjoy feeling safe.I sit on the same cream-colored couch, one leg crossed over the other, my handbag resting neatly beside me, looking every bit like the polished billionaire wife the tabloids have spent the last week obsessing over.Only now, half the country knows my marriage is imploding.Progress.Harper settles into

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

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