“Like any other criminal?” I growl, my voice barely recognizable even to myself. “How dare you call Ginni that!”
Marco’s hands come up defensively, but he doesn’t try to break my grip. Smart man. Right now, I’m operating on pure instinct, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to hurt someone for what they’re doing to Ginni.
“Carlo, what the hell...”
But I can’t find the words. Can’t explain the murderous fury that’s consuming me, the need to make someone pay for abandoning the most vulnerable member of their family when he needs them most.
I release him abruptly and spin away, unable to look at his face for another second. Unable to stand here while the only person I’ve ever truly loved is rotting in a cell because his own family thinks he’s disposable.
“Where are you going?” Marco calls after me as I stride toward the exit.
I don’t answer. Can’t answer. Because if I open my mouth right now, I’m going to say something that reveals exactly how much Ginni means to me, and that’s a secret I can’t afford to share.
Not yet.
The drive through London passes in a blur of rage and panic. My hands are shaking on the steering wheel, my foot pressing the accelerator harder than it should as I weave through traffic with reckless desperation.
Ginni is in prison. Alone, terrified, probably convinced that I’ve abandoned him just like everyone else. Probably thinking that the note I left him was just a pretty lie, that my promise to come back for him was meaningless.
He has no idea I’ve been falling apart without him. No idea that every day since I left has been a struggle just to remember how to breathe.
The industrial estate on the outskirts of the city is dark and mostly empty, the kind of place where legitimate businesses pack up and go home at five o’clock, leaving only the operations that prefer to work in shadows.
I screech to a halt outside a unit that looks abandoned, its windows blacked out and no sign indicating what might be inside. But I know Dante’s here. He’s always here when people need the kind of help that can’t be found through official channels.
I bang on the metal door with my fist, not caring about subtlety or discretion. “Dante! Open the fucking door!”
The door opens almost immediately, revealing Dante’s tall frame silhouetted against the dim light from inside. He takes one look at my face and steps aside without a word.
“We need to talk,” I say as I push past him into the warehouse.
“I gathered that,” Dante replies calmly, closing the door behind me.
I spin around to face him, and whatever he sees in my expression makes his own features sharpen with interest.
“It’s about my secret,” I say without preamble. “The one you knew I was keeping.”
“I’m listening.”
And just like that, the last of my defenses crumble. Because Ginni is in prison, and I’m the only one who gives a damn about getting him out. And if that means trusting Dante with the truth about what happened between us, then so be it.
“I need your help,” I say quietly. “And when I tell you why, you’re probably going to think I’ve lost my mind.”
Dante’s dark eyes study my face for a long moment, and then he nods once.
“Try me.”
“I’m in love with Giovanni Torrini and I need you to help me break him out of jail.”
Chapter thirty-six
Ginni
Today is the day. I can feel it in my bones, in the way the morning light filters through the barred windows of my cell, in the particular quality of anticipation that fills the air like the promise of rain.
Carlo is coming for me today.
Yesterday I thought the same thing, of course. And the day before that. But today feels different. Today feels inevitable, like everything that’s happened up to this point has been leading to this moment when my handsome husband finally realizes that stabbing that policeman was actually a love letter written in the most dramatic language I could manage. A sign that I understand he needed just a little more help to embrace our beautiful love. One final incentive to enable him to see clearly.
