I tugged my hand, but his grip was strong. “Where’s Julian.” I knew he’d been hit and even though he’d asked me to run, I prayed he wasn’t badly injured.
“He’ll live,” Salvatore threw over his shoulder, his nonchalance speaking to his uncaring attitude.
By the time we reached his car, I was so tired, my eyelids grew heavier. If that wasn’t enough, my stomach grumbled its dissatisfaction for starving it. Pressing a hand against it, I glanced out the rear windshield, waiting for Salvatore to finish chatting with his men and the cops before he took a call. I was barely conscious when I felt him slide in next to me and heard Marco start the engine.
I glanced at Salvatore, as his fingers punched a number into the keypad of his phone. The idea of grabbing his phone and tossing it out the window flashed through my mind, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. How can he not buy me ice cream?
Either there was something mentally wrong with me or I was just plain tired of being told what to do. All my life, I’d adhered to my mother’s cautions and only because she was trying to protect me. Now I was at the hands of a callous killer and even merciless husband-to-be, and I should be anxious, afraid of what he might do to me. instead, I was worried about ice cream. Go figure.
Watching him from beneath the shield of my lashes, I had to admit that despite his hard angles and chiseled arrogance, he was every bit the sophisticated man born to wear a three-piece suit. While it might get me punished, I planned to make his life difficult. Pulling my knees into my chest, I curled my arms around them, leaned my head against the window, and succumbed to the sleep my exhausted body craved.
29
Vincenzo (35 years)
With my eyes on the passing scenery, I was still on a call when I felt Gianna’s head hit my shoulder as Marco took a curve in the road. I stopped speaking and glanced down at her. She let out a small groan of frustration each time her sleep-heavy head lolled around. On the next slide of her head and not sure why I did it, I turned slightly, lifted my arm, and laid it across the backrest, letting her head drop to my lap. Surprisingly, she didn’t stir but turned into my body and snuggled closer.
Cocking my head to one side, I cut the call and studied her sleeping features. She was a beautiful girl—the type of beauty that would make a man pause midstride to admire her unassuming innocence. Yet, beneath that fragile exterior lurked a vixen who, given time, would probably bend the world to her will. I sensed it in the sudden bursts of irritation she quickly hid. Seen it in the way her eyes, a rich mossy green, flashed unadulterated fire while she fought to control her tongue. Heard it in her subtle insults she tried to hide. Fuck knew whether she feared me, or she was just testing my intimidation levels. Regardless, for a sheltered princess, Gianna Mancini was proving to be more of an enigma than I’d expected.
Her skin was silky soft and porcelain doll perfection flawed only by the bruise where the fucker had slapped her. I tensed, not wanting to think what would’ve happened had I not arrived in time. She shuddered, drawing my gaze to another bruise on her thigh. It peeked from beneath the hem of her dress that rode up as she moved her leg. Grinding my teeth, I shook my head and glanced out the window. Why should I care if something happened to her? After all, she was merely a pawn. A means to an end. Nothing more.
“Mom,” the sudden whisper had me looking down again. Her creased brow followed with another soft whimper. She gripped my shirt in a tight fist and shuddered again. Tears rolled down over the bridge of her nose and onto my pants. She was probably dreaming of her mother. I moved a hand to wake her and let it hover over her shoulder before I fisted it.
What the fuck are you doing?
This was no time for sentimental shit. She was there for a reason and letting her play with my emotions would deviate from the plan. Marco glided the car to a stop, shifting my attention. I shook Gianna lightly to wake her. She made a tiny noise but didn’t stir. My driver glanced over his shoulder.
“Would you like me to carry her in, sir?” My brow creased and he blinked, his eyes filling with an immediate apology as he scrambled out to open the door.
I slid a hand under her thighs and back, easily lifted her light body against me, and climbed out of the car. Heading indoors, I glanced down at her. With her face wet with tears, her body delicate and soft in my arms, she appeared so vulnerable. I snapped my gaze away at the sudden tightening in my chest.
What the fuck was that?
I was a second away from shoving to her feet when Rosana and Leo appeared in the living room, their expressions polar opposites. Where my housekeeper was fighting hard to hide her pleased smile, Leo’s clenched jaw would probably cut through ice.
“What happened in town?” he asked, his glare riveted on Gianna’s sleeping form.
