35
Vincenzo (35 years)
“It’s done.”
I ended my call and glanced away from the view outside my office window. The spot I hadn’t moved from since Gianna told me about Zayne since my call to Leo to inform Gianna he’d be bringing her to me in Japan on our supposed honeymoon, and since they left for Japan.
Leo stood on the other side of my desk, gloating like he’d just accomplished a fucking miracle instead of playing with someone’s life. “Where?”
“We landed in Japan as you asked. They’ll keep her for a month maximum, apply for the new passport, then release her to the embassy.”
“No fuck ups?”
“No. Straightlaced like you asked. All the players have been paid enough to make sure it runs smoothly.”
“Good.”
“Can I ask why you’re doing this?”
Reaching for the brandy I’d been nursing for the last half an hour, I rolled the brown liquid around in the glass before placing it back on the table. After having finished two bottles over the last seventy-two hours or so, the effect was beginning to lose its touch. “I live in a dog-eat-dog world that requires unerring loyalty, Leo, and sometimes, to teach a new pup, tricks, you don’t throw him a bone, you throw him in with the wolves. If he survives, chances are he’ll kill you, if not, he’ll worship you.”
“And what if he chooses not to worship you?”
I’d never completely trusted the man staring down at me with eyes that held a lot of secrets—secrets I either knew or was wary enough to know that someday it might come back to bite me in the ass. But I could trust him to pull the latest shit I asked of him. Only because he was honest about not liking Gianna from the start. Naturally, a request like this probably had him rubbing his hands in glee.
Sighing, I leaned back in my seat. “I believe we are the creators of our destiny. It’s all a matter of choices.” Even as I uttered the words, some sixth sense told me that whatever I expected from Gianna, I’d probably get the opposite. I never dated but I’d fucked enough women to know that sometimes they either wanted to be nurtured, fucked, pampered or loved.
With Gianna, she needed all four. The question remained, what could I give her that she hadn’t already found with him, her lover, her husband, the man she’d never forget.
Death?
