Surviving His Scars (Angels Halo MC Next Gen 4)

“Put me down!” I yelled, squirming in his arms. Clenching his jaw, he started up the stairs of the plane, and I began to thrash in his arms. “Gian! Let me go. I’m not going with you. It’s over between us.”

“Stop before you cause me to drop you,” he snapped. “Do you want to harm the baby?”

I instantly went still in his arms, but my glare was so intense, he swallowed roughly before continuing up the last of the steps.

The interior of the jet was luxurious, with plush seats and a huge flat screen on one wall. There was a couch with seat belts surrounded by several tables. One held a laptop with a closed lid.

The pilot and a flight attendant stood at the cockpit as we entered, both of them greeting me with professional smiles, but their eyes quickly lowered when they got one look at Gian’s face. A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, dark brown skin, and tired eyes sat on one of the couches. His suit was wrinkled, and he looked out of sorts. There was what I’d always imagined a doctor’s bag might look like beside him and a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

Gian barked out orders in Italian, causing the pilot and flight attendant to snap into action as he placed me on the couch opposite the man I assumed was the doctor.

Leaning over me, Gian fastened my seat belt and then sat beside me.

“Where are we going?” I asked as Gian took the drink the flight attendant offered him.

He tossed back the entire contents of the glass in one swallow before handing it back to the woman and telling her to bring me some still water with no ice.

“Home.”

I huffed in frustration. “We might be in Oregon, but we’re not all that far from Creswell Springs, G. A few hours’ drive wasn’t going to hurt anything.”

“We aren’t going to Creswell Springs, precious. That is not our home.” He took the glass the woman offered and placed it in the cupholder on the table in front of us.

“My head is cloudy from the medication I took earlier, so could you just tell me where the hell you think that is?” I touched a hand to the back of my head. My scalp was tender from where that asshole had grabbed me by the hair earlier and dragged me out of that nasty house. But that wasn’t why a headache was throbbing in my skull.

No, that was one hundred percent Gian’s doing.

Jaw locking, he stared straight ahead, not even looking in my direction or answering my question.

“What

medication were you given?” the doctor asked, his brow puckered as his eyes went from me to Gian and back again.

“Just something to help with the muscle pain and help me rest,” I explained and told him the name of what the nurse had given me earlier.

He nodded approvingly. “Good, good. That is in a class that won’t harm the baby.”

I covered the baby protectively with my hand. “How did you know I’m pregnant?”

The man’s brows lifted higher in surprise. “That is why I am here, Mrs. Fontana.”

“Dr. Khan is the leading obstetrician on the West Coast,” Gian explained before I could correct him that Gian and I weren’t married—and were never likely to be either. “He will be flying with us to our home to make sure you are comfortable. Once you are settled, he will assist us in finding the right doctor to oversee your pregnancy.”

“How kind of him,” I muttered sarcastically. I doubted the doctor was here out of the goodness of his heart. Given the state of his clothes and the tired look in his eyes, I was fairly sure the man was only present under duress.

“Rest easy, precious,” Gian said, his face expressionless. “I’ve assured Dr. Khan that he will remain unharmed for as long as we need his services. And the million dollars I promised him in advance has already been transferred into his account.”

“Million dollars?” I repeated with a strangled whisper. “You paid him a million dollars to fly with us to wherever the hell it is we’re going and stay with us for a few days?”

“No,” he said, his face dead serious. “We are paying him two million. The other half will be transferred when his services are complete.”

Suddenly, I felt dizzy. Two million dollars. Yes, I knew Gian was loaded. He’d made no secret of that fact the entire time we were in Rome. We had a different expensive wine every night in restaurants that were beyond amazing, but were also ridiculously overpriced. He bought me trinkets and clothes, and while he never let me see the price tags, I wasn’t blind to the quality of the items and knew they cost a pretty penny.

But to just throw around two million dollars like that? Why would he blow that kind of cash if he didn’t care?

Leaning forward, I picked up the glass of water and drank it thirstily to keep from demanding an answer to that particular question. Before it was half empty, the pilot’s voice came over the speaker, letting us know in perfect English that we would be taking off momentarily. But he didn’t say where we were flying to.

I felt the brush of cool air against my arms and shivered. Without a word, Gian unsnapped his belt and stood. Walking to the back of the plane, he disappeared through a doorway and, moments later, returned with a thick blanket. He tucked it around me, rubbing his hands up my arms a few times to warm me up before retaking his seat and fastening his belt once again.