Chapter 21
GIANNA
I figured the black and gold thread dress I chose would make him mad, because it is technically black.
Instead, his eyes lit up like an explosion when he saw me in it and I just wished I could bask in it and enjoy that look of lust, longing, and devotion he gave me.
Not for the first time since he took everything from me.
The stuff I bought was crazy expensive and I’ll throw it all away with the biggest glee when I run. Later tonight.
The bag is leaning against my leg under the table now as we sit at a candlelit table having dinner.
I’ve had so little to eat in the last few days that I’m at once incredibly hungry and totally without appetite.
I got a cheesy pasta dish, thinking it would make me feel better, since that’s always been my comfort food, but so far, I’ve only managed to eat a couple of forkfuls, washing them down with large gulps of a sweetish white wine.
The restaurant is full of people, but somehow, it’s very quiet, practically soundless around our table.
Each time the waiter comes to ask if there’s anything we need, it sounds like he’s screaming the question, even though he’s not.
The windows overlook the shimmering boardwalk and the dark ocean beyond, but I hear no sound coming from that direction either.
In the reflection, I look as dolled up as all the other women in here, but the look on my face is so vacant, so sad and empty I can’t even look at it. So I’m focusing on the dark ocean instead.
“I thought you liked going out to dinners and such,” he says in between bites. He’s almost finished the steak he ordered. The blood on his plate is another thing I can’t look at.
“I do. With family and friends.”
“And I’m neither. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
I raise my wine glass and tip it in his direction, inclining my head before drinking the contents.
The darkness in his eyes intensifies, as though all those shadows that follow him around closed ranks around him. The waiter rushes to refill my glass, but Matteo beats him to it.
“One more and then you’re done.”
“What? Don’t you want me to have fun? You could order us something stronger.”
I drink about half my glass. I don’t like getting drunk on wine. The hangover headache is always the worst when I do.
“I think you should take it slow,” he says. “What would your father say?”
I just barely manage not to spray him with a mouthful of the wine. “Why on earth would you care about that?”
“I think I’m the one who has to keep you safe now, like he would.”
“Why? Because you fucked me and abducted me? Because I have to do what you say?” I ask. “That’s not the same as being my protector like my father was.”
“Call it what you will.” He leans back with his own glass of wine in his hands—deep red in his case, like blood.
“I call you a murderer. My father is dead because of you, isn’t he?”
I’m both too drunk and not nearly drunk enough to hear the truth about this. But it all makes sense now. Why they let me see my sister. Why he took me out of the house to have fun. It’s because even if I run, I have nowhere to run to. My family is gone.
“He’s not.”
I’m sure he’s lying, he must be. But the honesty in his eyes is the same as I’ve always seen there. His knack for saying exactly what he’s thinking is definitely one of the top reasons why I fell for him.
“You’re lying,” I say anyway.
“I’m as sure as I can be that I’m right,” he says and sets his glass down before leaning across the table like he’s about to share a secret. Is this all just an act? To what end? So I’ll like him again. That’s not how men work. Especially not men in my world.
“But even if he is alive, he can’t help you anymore, Gianna,” he says, and I do like the way my name rolls off his tongue. Soft like a caress. “Things have changed a lot.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Your sister’s husband, Angelo Ferro, has taken over running the New York Mob,” he says.
“There’s no room for anyone from the old way anymore.
He won’t have it. So it’d be best for you to stick close to me and not ruffle any more feathers.
And it’s best for your sister to go along too. Do you understand?”
I drink some more wine because all the buzz I’d built up before is gone and my throat has gone dry. He’s just saying all this to make me compliant. To make me stop fighting him. To make me his again. That’s got to be the reason.
“And when I get my own back in LA, your family will all be welcome there with us.”
Whoa. Making a lot of assumptions there. And I don’t believe one word he’s staying.
“I bet Ferro wouldn’t like you telling me all of this,” I say. “What do you do? Just go around betraying all your friends? Is that like your thing?”
The darkness around him deepens even more, and as quiet as it is at our table I can hear those shadows around him hissing.
“I don’t owe anyone anything,” he says. “I’ve paid my dues and then some.”
He waves for the check and has the bill paid before I can think of what to say next. He’s impossible to figure out. Is he lying? Does he love me and that’s why he’s telling me all this? Or is he just playing some sick game, like a cat playing with its food?
“Let’s hit the casino now,” he says as he stands up. “I wanna see if my luck’s changed already.”
I stand too and he picks up my bag, then offers me his arm. I take it on instinct, not because I want to touch him. Or get closer to him. Or figure him out. But I have to pretend he’s getting to me. That’ll make it easier to run. I’ll go as soon as he’s not looking.
There’s only one way to know if he’s telling the truth or messing with my head. I have to learn the truth about what happened to my family firsthand.