Chapter 53 Giovanni #2
"You see,” John said, folding one leg over the other, “the problem with the Russians is that they always try to play by some kind of rules. Their own rules, usually. Rules that they make up as they go.” He smiled like he was reminiscing.
“What Roman should have done was kill me too. And anyone else with knowledge of what happened between him and your father. But he didn’t touch me. Out of pity, or mercy, or maybe so he could sleep better at night, I don’t know. And that was a very big mistake on his part.”
I brought the glass to my lips, having no clue what was in it. But I was in this. The sweet liquor burned my throat and my inhibitions.
“So you kidnap me to make Roman angry enough to kill you this time?” My own words surprised me. I hadn’t eaten in God knows how long, and one sip of alcohol went straight to my head. “You’ve known me for forever, John. What’s your plan here?”
My own questions barely made sense, but I craved more information, and John was talking about such random, hypothetical shit.
"Neither you nor Roman know who I really am.” Slowly, the kind sparkle in his eyes morphed into something sinister. “I'm not John Clemens. That’s my American name. My real name is Giovanni Pietoso.” I stared at John, barely able to make sense of what he was telling me.
Did my father know that? Was he aware that his closest business partner and friend had a different name? And what does his name have to do with anything?
“Pietoso was once a very powerful last name, Isla. My father was the underboss of the biggest criminal organization in the world—The Cosa Nostra.” I blinked at him, having no clue what that was.
“The Italian Mafia,” he clarified, seeing as I couldn’t produce a reaction.
“But I never wanted to be involved, Isla. I never wanted any part of that. The death, the crime, the sins. But you can’t fight the blood that runs in your veins, can you? ”
I was desperately trying to process what any of this meant. Was my dad part of the Italian mafia too? Was there some kind of unwritten rule? An eye for an eye?!
“When my father was killed, I disappeared. I changed my name, I learned to speak English without an accent, and my fair complexion helped me blend in seamlessly into the quiet American life. I escaped that world, but, little Isla, that world never escaped me.” He shook his head, not the least bit regretful.
“That's why your dad and I made such a good team. I knew of all his dark and shady dealings, and I always fully supported him. I wasn't just a director; I was his partner too. I just didn’t want to get personally involved, so Dave did all the dirty work."
John’s voice was even and calm, like he was telling me a story about something mundane and boring, not about how he was the son of an Italian mafia boss!
"But Roman didn't know any of that.” John sipped his drink, and I did too, trying to fill the shock with something.
“He didn't do his homework. Or it's possible that he thought he did but couldn’t find anything. I covered all the tracks. No one would ever link John Clemens to Giovanni Pietoso, unless they knew how to dig very deep.”
John looked right past me into the large window, speaking quietly now.
“Except the meaning of my last name. Clemens and Pietoso mean the same thing: merciful.
And I am Isla. I am merciful. Which is why I won't touch you.
I don't want to and don't need to.” John refocused on me and leaned on his knees with his elbows to be closer, making sure I understood his next message. “You’re here because I’m going to trade you for Roman. "
The words stabbed me right in the heart. T…trade me for Roman?
The love of my life. We were separated again, but this time, hope that I would see him again began to slowly decay inside me. John wasn’t John anymore. And Giovanni didn’t seem to be the negotiating type.
"Why…why do you need Roman?" I asked, though my voice came out thin and useless. I was finally beginning to understand—this was so much worse than it had seemed five minutes ago. John leaned back, still smiling like we were chatting over coffee.
"Because Roman destroyed my world, Isla. Dave and I were riding high—we had it all, and Roman blew it all to hell. I’m going to take all his money—not because I need it—but out of principle.” John paused to make sure I could digest all his words.
“But besides his money…I’m going to take his life.
He’s impossible to get to, but you—” John shook his finger at me happily, “—you’re his weakness.
You’re a godsend, Isla!” John’s eyes sparkled with such happiness.
“The moment you said his name, I knew right away that you knew him personally. There’s no other way you could’ve found out who he was.
Roman’s secretive and careful, but you’re the vulnerable spot.
You’re his weakness. That’s why he has you under twenty-four-hour security.
That’s why you’re always being watched. Because you’re the only thing he cares about. And he will do anything for you.”
John lifted his glass in a toast, but I was a mere statue in front of him, going over all his words. I’m going to take his life.
“I had you followed. I knew you left with him the day after I saw you. I left those pictures in your little fuck-villa.”
My breath caught in my chest at this revelation. I was so cold, but my cheeks burned in embarrassment, and while there were so many issues flying at me all at once, I could only focus on one—John saw me naked. Ew, the disgust twisted my face, but John didn’t bat an eye.
“I’ve been getting updates every step of the way.
You two are obviously disgustingly in love—it’s pathetic, actually…
but it works in my favor. Roman will give himself up to save you without even a second thought.
And that’s exactly what I need—for him to knock on my door.
You don’t even realize what a precious pawn you are, Isla! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
John glowed. There was a metamorphosis happening right in front of me. John was transforming from a kind and polite older acquaintance to a menacing and evil personal tormentor, all with a smile on his face.
“You know he ransacked that island to find out who spied on you two? He had his security shake down every possible witness, and he came close, but not close enough.” John’s eyes lit up as he gloated.
“His security located the photographer even though they had no idea that he was the man taking the photos. They almost had him, but…I got to him first.” John dragged his thumb across his neck, letting me know what he did to the poor photographer.
I leaned back into the couch, instinctively trying to get away.
“Roman must be losing his mind right now. He has no idea where you are, and how could he?” John posed the question with undeniable joy. “I fall under no suspicion. He has no idea who I am! But we’re going to play a little game…and that will light a real fire under his ass.”
John stood and began pacing in front of the fireplace, his footsteps hushed by the soft carpet.
“We will give him just small clues, just tiny whispers, just enough to drag him through hell. He’ll go around begging anyone and everyone.
He will crawl on his knees, desperate for information.
Roman has never stood on his knees.” John suddenly turned and pointed his finger at me.
“Roman kills from a distance. He rules from above, but this…this will really humble him.”
He hummed, bringing his clasped hands to his lips, as if in anticipation and excitement.
I had no words, I had no thoughts, and I was having real trouble processing everything John unleashed on me. “John…I…” I trailed off, unable to formulate a real sentence.
“I know, Isla, I know. I know this is shocking for you, and I was always just some guy your dad worked with.” He took a slow step toward the fireplace, grabbing the poker and prodding the logs.
“But your father…was a real piece of work. And none of this is clicking for you right now because you never really knew who he was. If you had—if you knew the kind of people he was involved with, this wouldn’t come as such a surprise. ”
The fire crackled loudly, and all his words were sinking into me like a slow poison. I’m going to take his life. That’s what he’d said. He was going to lure Roman in and then…kill us both.
"John,” I whispered, doing my best to hold it together.
“Maybe…maybe we can figure this out. We don’t have to make this about death.
You could just…you could just take what you want, take the money.
Take all the money that I inherited.” I offered weakly, the alcohol and the shock of the news intoxicating my mind.
“Don’t do this, John. Just let it end. We could still all walk away. ”
The scenarios swirling in my mind were all catastrophic, but John chuckled at my words.
"You were always such a good girl, Isla. So innocent, so kind.” He momentarily turned to me, something close to affection reflecting in his eyes; the same way he looked at me when I told him I was engaged.
But it was all an act.
“Maybe that's why you and Roman work together so well; he's the opposite of that.” He mused and turned back to the fire. "I’m not going to kill you. But I’m also not interested in moving on. I want him. And you’re going to help me.”
John had shed his mask. He turned back to me, a different man. Cold. Calculating. Uncaring.
"He will come. We’ll make him suffer for a few more days.
Let him spiral a bit.” John stepped closer, enough for me to see the obsession in his eyes.
“But soon…we can send him a video and give him a clue. I'll help you figure out what to say. And then it’ll only be a matter of time…before he crawls his way over here.”