The rest of the meal passes in polite, if not tense, conversation. Gina, who hadn’t held her tongue earlier, is mostly quiet, and I can’t tell if it’s from exhaustion or something else.
Afterward, the Pisanis don’t seem to have any plans of leaving, and Gina is basically swaying on her feet, trying not to blink sleepily. It’s clear she’s exhausted, but Caruso refuses to allow her to go to bed. And if Vincenzo and Emanuele are staying, then I’m not fucking leaving.
I still don’t know their business with Caruso, and when I finally get Emanuele alone, I challenge him on it because Caruso is part of the Santoro mafia and in my territory. Emanuele claims there is no business; they were only in the city and Caruso offered to host. When I demand to know why I hadn’t been given the heads-up that he was entering my territory, as per properprotocol, he pats my shoulder and tells me that my father knew and approved. And I can’t say anything further.
But when one of my men reports that the Triads bombed a cargo ship carrying a massive shipment of weapons, Silvio, Marco, and I need to leave.
I gladly leave Caruso and his wife, but I reluctantly leave Gina. I can sense Vincenzo is a shark circling her, waiting for his moment to attack. He wants her, that much is clear.
And I’m determined that he won’t fucking have her.
After saying goodnight, and we’re outside heading to our vehicles, Marco pushes me up against my Maserati. “What the hell is wrong with you? What were you trying to accomplish in there?” He points at the house while Silvio watches, wondering the same thing.
I shove him back, knowing he’s right because what I did tonight was idiotic. I had let my impulsive and unhinged side peek out when I needed to remain calm and in control.
“Not now,” I say through clenched teeth. “We need to get to the port.”
He huffs in anger but moves around to the passenger side of my car.
“Ride with Silvio,” I order, even though my brother rode with me here. “I need to think.”
“Fucking right you need to think,” he mutters, storming toward Silvio’s Ferrari.
I climb in, slamming my door, and fire up the powerful engine. Then gravel flies as I speed toward the front gate and disappear into my world of darkness, leaving behind the light—the sun—and my instincts warn that I’m not going to be able to live without her.
Chapter 6
Gina
I’veonlygottenfourhours of sleep, but after lying here for the past hour, I finally give up and throw back the comforter. Padding to the ensuite, I wipe the sleep from my eyes.
When I look in the mirror, I grimace. Dark circles are under my eyes, and I look pale and drawn. My cheek is still slightly red from my father’s slap.
Unease fills me as I think about last night. It wasn’t just that my father hit me; it was his entire demeanor. More than once, I caught him looking at me with a calculated look. And more than once, I felt like I was on display during the meal and whenever he and Emanuele spoke quietly.
Or maybe it’s just my sleep-deprived state making me paranoid.
I strip off my pajamas, then drag my tired body to the shower. Once the water is heated, I crawl in and stand under the spray, hoping it washes my paranoia and dread away.
I really don’t want to tour the city with Vincenzo today. At all.
If it were Tommaso, that would be a very different story…
“Don’t even go there,” I warn myself. “You’re a nobody in his world.”
When I’m finished showering, I dry off, braid my hair, and then go to find something to wear. I ignore the fancy clothes and choose something more comfortable. The early morning July sunshine looks warm, so I slip on a pair of jean shorts and a white shirt.
I study myself in the mirror, knowing that my parents will disapprove of my choice. I shouldn’t quietly rebel against their snobbish attitudes, though, since one of the reasons I came here was to discuss my plan to travel and work abroad. But something tells me that even if I pleased them by being the perfect, poised princess they paid to have me trained as, my request to travel would still be denied.
A shiver runs through me as I glance around the room, feeling like it was a big mistake to come here to see my parents.
Shaking my head at myself and my paranoia, which has to be caused by lack of sleep, I slip on my canvas shoes and leave my room.
The house is quiet since it’s not even six in the morning. Mom loves her sleep, so she won’t get up until at least ten. My father might be stirring soon, so I hurry down to the main floor of the overly decorated house with all its expensive art and head straight for the door to go for a walk.
I had only seen the staff serving last night; however, it’s not uncommon for staff to live off-site in their own homes.
I’m still coming to terms with thinking of my parents as rich. I mean, I guess they are, since they could afford to send me to the private school, plus this house and all its excess. However, it’s just…weird.
