The Truth Hurts: Part Two: The Twisted Betrayal Duet

Chapter 33

Giovanni’s broad form towers over me, his presence looming yet comforting while the scent of his aftershave envelops me. For the last two hours, he’s been helping me sort through the bids from the contractors to remodel The Vault. Since The Vultures did a shit job of burning the place down a couple of months ago, I’m left with making sure the place gets cleaned up. I kind of delayed on doing anything about it since we were busy not dying.

Thankfully, the foundations are stable, so it’s mainly the interior I need to focus on, despite the contractors telling me otherwise. It’s amazing what some men think they can get away with when they’re dealing with women. Clearly, misogyny is rife.

“You don’t want to use them,” Giovanni grumbles, pointing to a quote in the pile of paperwork. “That company cuts corners while charging full price.”

I nod my acknowledgement, pushing the bid to the rejections pile. “What about these?” I hand off another quote to him, hoping he can give me more advice because I’m so far out of my comfort zone when it comes to construction and managing these projects. Stick me in front of a target with a loaded gun and I’ll rip right through it, but when it comes to planning and approving companies to work on my club, I’m lost.

Giovanni nods, placing the paper back on my desk. “You should ask to see more of their work before committing. But make sure they don’t tell you need extra work doing to the place.”

“Great,” I mumble to myself.

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

I turn my head towards him. The fresh scar on his cheek is red and sore, but it gives him an extra edge of handsomeness. He’s so close that I can feel his breath skate past my cheek. His green eyes hold me in place, stealing my breath away like I’m seeing them for the first time all over again. He doesn’t attempt to move away, nor make any attempt to close the distance between us, despite the way he’s looking at me. The temptation sits idly between us, the magnetism pulling me towards him with every shallow breath I take.

I’d be a liar if I said that I didn’t want him to kiss me. My body still remembers how he touched me, how he claimed me—even though it’s been weeks. If I could go back to those moments, I’d choose them in a heartbeat.

I find myself leaning towards him at the mere thought of those soft lips on mine. It’s like my body knows what it wants, and it doesn’t matter that my mind is telling me the opposite. The connection we have is palpable. The way his hand gently strokes mine. The way his eyes pin me in place, touring the seam of my lips. All it would take is a steady breath of courage to lean in further and let him remind me how it felt to be with him.

But I can’t.

Since the moment we were kidnapped, things have shifted between us. Our relationship has been like a ball, bouncing back and forth. One minute, I’m determined to keep him at arms length, but then the next minute I want nothing more than to melt into him. I haven’t known Giovanni long enough to know the ins and outs of his personality; what makes him happy, what makes him tick. But I do know that what we had wasn’t just a fling—at least not for me. I wanted so much more than that, probably more than he could give me.

That’s why it’s so hard to separate myself from my feelings. A part of me still wants him, even though his betrayal is the very thing telling me to steer clear. Maybe that’s why I want to help him so badly; to give him the happiness he really deserves so I can let him go.

But could I really let him go?

The door to the den swings open and I jolt backwards in surprise. My heart races, pulse pounding in my ears as Levi bounces in with his boyish grin pinning his cheeks up.

Giovanni sighs like we’ve been interrupted, pushing away from the desk to take a seat on the couch.

With the way Levi waltzes in, you wouldn’t have thought he’d just returned from the hospital after discovering his little sister is five months pregnant, not to mention malnourished to the point she’s barely recognizable. Yet again, Levi defies any perceptions I should have of him as he rounds my desk and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“What’s got you so happy?” I chuckle as I tidy up the paperwork in front of me, making sure I keep Giovanni’s preference on top.

“Can’t I be happy to see you?”

Rolling my eyes, I swing my chair around so that I’m looking up at his playful smile. “You can,” I smile back, standing up to wrap my arms around his neck. “But I sense that’s not the reason. How’s your sister?”

His arms slide around my waist, pulling me against his hard body. “She’s getting there. The doctors are monitoring her and the baby, and the twins have agreed to keep watch over her.”

“Good.” We’re still locked in a soft embrace, staring into one another’s eyes. There’s a hint of something more serious swimming in the depths of his gaze, leaving me questioning what’s got him so happy. “So?”

“I spoke to your father.” All the playful banter Levi entered with has now diminished. His face straightens into a serious expression and he levels me with his dark eyes. “He wants to see you.”

“No.” I snap, trying to push away from Levi, but his firm hold keeps me in place. It’s unfair that he has strength on his side, because in any other circumstance, he’d be letting me go. “Levi,” I warn.

“Everything okay?” Enzo’s deep voice zaps straight through me, causing me to snap my head in his direction. He’s standing in the doorway, wiping his hands on a cloth. Splatters of blood mar his face and arms. It’s dangerous how sexy he looks with stubble lining his jaw and evidence of torture staining his skin. I’ve never been one for enjoying the pain reaped on others—I’d much rather a clean and quick death—but I know that inflicting pain is Enzo’s forte, and with the look of enjoyment plastered on his face, I can easily set my nerves aside to revel in how hot he looks.

“Yeah,” I sigh when Levi eventually releases me. In a split second, I’m able to collect my thoughts and take a deep breath before dropping back into my chair and running my hands through my hair. “It’s nothing.”

Since everything came out about Enzo and what my father forced him to do, I’ve not been in the mood to speak to him. I don’t think I ever will be, because his actions hurt me so much that even looking at Enzo sometimes feels like I’m imagining him being here; being alive.

“It’s not nothing,” Levi huffs, perching on the side of my desk. “Her father wants to see her, and I think it’s about time they cleared the air. We could use another Bianchi in the mix.”

I resist the urge to punch Levi out of frustration. The whole situation annoys me, as if my father can just snap his fingers and forget about the fact he took my best friend away from me and made me believe he was dead. I know there are reasons behind his actions, but I’m not sure I’m ready to hear them from him.

Enzo sighs, pocketing the cloth as he takes a seat on the sectional opposite Giovanni. “I think you should hear him out.”

“Not you too,” I groan, rubbing a palm over my face. Of all people, I didn’t think Enzo would be on Levi’s side about this. My father did order him to fake his death, after all. That day was horrific for everyone involved. Enzo not only lost me, but his family, too. I don’t even know whether his mother knows he’s still alive.

“Come on, Bellissima,” Levi coos. “One dinner, that’s all.”

“One dinner that will put me in an even shittier mood than I am already,” I snark, quirking a brow. “No. I’m not ready.”

“You don’t need to be,” Enzo answers sharply. “Just give him five minutes to explain, and if you don’t like what he has to say, you leave.”

He says it like it’s that simple. Like my father won’t run circles around me until I’m dizzy. Because that’s what my father does. We have the kind of relationship where we can be close one minute and almost enemies the next. He’s the champion of gaslighting, always finding a way for himself to look good.

Back when I was a child, there would be days where I was his pride and joy, the apple of his eye and all that bullshit. But then there would be days when he would return home and his foul mood would stink up our entire home. It wasn’t until my mother died that I realized the true depths of my father’s behavior. I quickly learned to stand my ground because of it. Maybe that’s where I get my stubbornness from.

The threat of a headache starts creeping in, the throbbing radiating through my skull. I rub my temple with two fingers, thinking of Enzo”s words. Five minutes is an awfully long time to give to a man who couldn’t spare me the same when he broke the news about Enzo’s death. Sure, holding a grudge is petty and immature. I’m well aware of my standing when it comes to mine and my father’s relationship. But my stubbornness calls out, telling me not to give in so quickly.

“You know your father had his reasons,” Enzo reminds me.

I roll my eyes, sitting back and folding my arms over my chest. “And I have my own,” I challenge.

“Bellissima,” Levi leans forward and hooks a finger under my chin, turning my attention to him. “Your father cares about you. In his fucked up way, he cares. Just let him explain.”

“Are these my father’s orders, or yours?” I reply sarcastically. “Because you answer to me, not him.”

Levi chuckles, the sound rippling lightly through the room. “Keep up that bratty attitude and I’ll tell Luca.”

Though it’s meant as a threat, I can’t deny the temptation those words bring to me. I haven’t spent any real time with Luca since he was shot, and I’m definitely feeling guilty about that. My heart aches just thinking about spending time with him. But I have to remind myself, one thing at a time.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I murmur to Levi. Then I turn my head to Enzo, who’s watching with rapt curiosity because I doubt he just heard what Levi said. “One dinner. And you all have to suffer through it with me.”

Enzo shakes his head, eyes crinkling where his incredulous smile reaches. “I expected nothing less.”

“Anything else from Verdi?” I ask, swiftly changing the subject. From the state of Enzo, I’d say Verdi has nothing else to give us.

“He’s about as much use to us as a wet bandaid,” he grumbles. He’s been torturing him for days now, which is more than enough to know the man has no valuable information for us. I suspect that there are more personal reasons as to why Enzo is keeping our enemy locked in our basement, but I don’t question him on that. I have more important things to think about, like the irrational fear of the Elders getting wind of the situation. I need Enzo to finish this thing with Verdi so we can concentrate our efforts on other things.

Like finding Giovanni’s daughter.

With a long exhale and rub of my brow, my decision cements itself. “He’s got to go,” I finally tell Enzo.

The way his eyes light up is both scary and sexy as hell. The flash of excitement, the glint of sickening satisfaction; there’s no way Enzo isn’t going to enjoy this.

“Any particular way you have in mind?” he asks, standing from his position on the couch. “I could make it look like another family.”

“No,” I shake my head. “There’s no need to get other families involved in this. Just get rid of the body carefully. I don’t want to have to deal with the Elders just yet. And make sure Ronaldo isn’t a problem, too.”

“Done!”

And with that, Enzo leaves the room, mirroring his cousin’s entrance. You can’t miss the eagerness that puts a spring in his step, or the way his ass shakes a little as he leaves, because yeah, I was totally checking him out.