20. Gianna
CHAPTER 20
It’s been two days since Niko returned from his meeting by the river with Domalachego and then his brother. Three days since we got married and he told me the truth about my brother. The stress weighs on both of us. Not only do I feel bad for his suffering but I’m also partially responsible for it.
I’m not acting like myself, constantly torn between overwhelming feelings of love for him and guilt, spending hours wondering if I have Stockholm syndrome. This marriage feels like all my childish fantasies come to life, and much like they did when I was a teen, they come at the expense of my family. But is Niko really my family now?
I haven’t told Niko about my uncle because I’m still not sure about our relationship. What if he suddenly backpedals and all this respect and obsession flies out the window? Should I really cut off my only exit strategy, if it is one, that doesn’t involve Domalachego himself? This feels amazing right now, and I don’t want it to end, but my life has been a series of startling and bloody disappointments. Why should this be different?
I’m struggling with what I learned about my brother’s death and what it means about who my father was as a man. I wish I could say I thought Niko was lying to me, but I don’t.
We fuck constantly, multiple times a day and on every surface. The thin golden chain stays in place around my neck but the collar and leash hang between us despite not coming back on yet. The sex not only gives me the feel-good chemicals I so desperately need, but it makes me feel connected to him, to anyone, something I missed out on for so long stuffed inside that apartment.
After one such occasion, we’re lying on the couch.
“Why would someone get a Medeiros family seal now?” he asks.
“Maybe he didn’t, maybe he was a child soldier.”
He nods like the suggestion makes sense, but it doesn’t comfort him.
“What, you don’t think so?”
“It was a fresh tattoo, Gi.”
No one but me has any idea how hard a time Niko has been having coming into himself and taking over this role. It makes it sting even worse that I’m betraying him. That part of me is still unsure, that maybe my loyalties do lie with my great-uncle rather than the man I love.
I’m in my head a lot, thinking when we’re not screwing, and sometimes I think he fucks me just to prevent whatever is happening inside me from getting worse. I swear I’m grateful until I remember everything that’s happened between us and why I shouldn’t give into him so fully.
There’s a distance between us despite all the nearness and I know it’s my fault. I feel his tension when he’s beside me and find myself wondering if I shouldn’t just give it all up, but that last shred of mistrust and family loyalty hangs on.
We both agree we should wait to announce our marriage until things have settled, but he’s being so careful with me that I wonder if he hoped I would be offended. I don’t mind being his secret when I’m keeping so many of my own, when I’m not even sure what my truth is anymore.
Domalachego seems to be gearing toward something big, so Niko has been dumping money into manpower and hiring soldiers. They fill the property, and while I’m glad for their presence, the constant march of armed men sets my teeth on edge.
Hundreds of them line the property behind the wall, through the wood line and beyond, where guests of the vineyard can’t see how strapped we are. Niko has told me he may have to temporarily close things down if there’s an all-out war, and the thought of his disappointment makes my heart ache.
“This winery is what I’ve poured my life’s passion into when I couldn’t have what I really wanted, Gi. Every part of this place is inspired by you. I built it hoping I’d get you here with me someday.”
He’s been saying sweet things like this a lot to me lately, and each time he does, I swell with love, then burst with shame that’s so intense it’s nearly crippling. I’m starting to have stronger feelings for my lie than the death of my parents who spent years abandoning and betraying me. My family loyalty is realigning and shifting to Niko, but I still don’t know if I can trust him.
It’s nearing the middle of the night, and we’re still lying on the couch wrapped around each other when there’s a knock on the door. Niko and I sit up. He places my wineglass on the table with his own—he does produce my favorite wine.
“Go in the kitchen and get the knife you used to filet Antonine. It’s in the block.”
My heart skips a beat, and my stomach knots.
“You kept the knife?!” That shouldn’t surprise me, given he fed the body to the pigs, but slipping a murder weapon back into the block to be used on our food is disgusting.
He pulls out his gun, making how seriously he’s taking this situation quite clear. I jump off the couch but stare at the front door, worried it might just open like when Antonine barged in.
“Go.”
I listen to him for once and scurry off into the kitchen and grab the knife, but I hang around the wall so I can see everything that happens.
He looks through the peephole.
“What the fuck?” But he doesn’t sound angry like he would if someone were here to hurt or threaten us.
He opens the door with the gun trained on a man I initially think is Pax, but I quickly realize his hair is wavy instead of curly and his eyes are blue, not green. Pax’s cousin Shane, stands at the door. He’s no relation to Niko, and his resemblance to my murderous brother-in-law would be unsettling even without his existing reputation.
He’s a psychiatrist, and as far as most of the gossiping crime families believe, he killed Pax’s mom while he had her in inpatient care. I don’t know much about him other than that, and I’ve only seen him at church a few times, but he’s always creeped me out.
“Hey, Niko, mind putting the gun down?” His voice is so smooth and charming, and his blue eyes and black hair make him look like a Disney prince. Man, what a crock of shit. A shiver runs down my spine.
Niko does not put the gun down.
“What do you need, Shane? It’s late,” he asks, shifting his body to cover the kitchen in case Shane looks around him, but I find I’m more worried about Niko’s proximity to Shane.
“Well, I committed my first murder, and I figured you were the best person to turn to for help.” His casual tone, the easy smile, and the charm so thick it’s like bubbled-up paint on metal—if he did just kill someone, he and Pax have officially too much in common.
Niko runs his hands through his hair in his frustration, something he usually only does when it's the two of us, betraying a level of comfort with this guy that sets my teeth on edge. He needs to stay highly on his guard, especially given his new position and how quick people will be to take it from him.
“Take them out back and feed them to the pigs. I don’t have time for this shit.” He waves him away, permitting him run of the property and allowing him to feed more bodies to the pigs, which I’ve made my feelings on extremely clear.
“We are not feeding the pigs any more bodies! You stop feeding the pigs bodies, or I don’t eat your food!” I demand as I step out of the doorway holding the knife, but I’m not threatening Niko, rather the creepy fucker standing too close to my husband.
Shane looks up and meets my gaze wearing a wicked smile. His eyes shift to my knife, and his eyebrow subtly lifts in interest.
“That’s not Gianna Gemelli?” he asks, his excitement and interest making him look like a snake sizing up his dinner, deciding whether he’ll live consuming it. He better fucking watch himself. I will cut him.
“Of course not. She’s Gianna Bouchard,” Niko says, and a rush of sweet emotion fills my stomach.
“Pax is going to lose his shit.” Shane laughs, suddenly looking a lot more like someone who just committed a murder. A manic light gleams in his eyes and seems to reflect off his teeth, but it’s just my sense of dread building in his presence.
“You tell Pax anything, and I’ll make sure you’re caught for your crimes.” I can’t see Niko’s face, but his shoulders tense. Niko and Shane are nearly the same height, though Niko beats him out by an inch, but they're both too broad and strong for me to feel certain Niko has the upper hand. I give Shane a harsh glare, and he chuckles as he mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key.
“Niko, you can pretend you hate me all you like, but we both know you passively tolerate me, and I do greatly appreciate your help.”
“I don’t remember saying I would help you once the lady nixed my pig plan.” I’m glad to see he’s keeping him at a distance, but that protective instinct won’t stand down. Something about him makes my skin crawl, just like Pax.
“I have a lovely lady of my own to get back to. Speaking of, how long has he been keeping you here?” He looks directly at me like he might be offering me help. I’ll slice him up worse than I did Antonine, if he even thinks of it.
I look him up and down, letting my opinion of him show. “I’m his wife. I keep him here. Thanks.”
I shift my gaze resolutely away from him and back on my husband, who stares at me with wide eyes. Is that the first time I’ve said it out loud?
“His wife?” Shane asks, even more interested than before. “I thought he was being facetious when he said your last name was Bouchard. You married him?”
“Yep.” I pop the p.
“Well, best wishes.” He tips his head in my direction. “And congratulations to you, Niko. I know you often don’t feel the same, but I consider you a cousin. This is wonderful news.”
He gestures toward us as if it really is a wonderful turn of fate, but I’m sure the creepy bastard is up to something.
“Am I your cousin exclusively when I’m doing you favors, or all the time?” Niko asks, his patience wearing thin.
“No need to be rude, Niko. We can all be friends here.”
Niko turns to me, pointedly looking at my knife.
“Gi, do you want to be Shane’s friend?”
I sure the fuck do not.
“Not particularly. He smells as crazy as your brother.” The stench is all over him, floating off him like a walking red flag.
“Smells crazy?” Shane asks, cocking his head lightly to the side. He’s so handsome and smooth he doesn’t seem real.
“Yeah. It’s on a person. For me, it’s like a smell. You reek.”
He puts a finger to his chin and taps like the phenomenon really fascinates him.
“What does Niko here smell like?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Shrink.” I give him a nasty look before turning back to Niko. “I don’t give a fuck what you do with the bodies, but I mean it. Feed them to the pigs, and I’ll never eat in your Michelin-starred restaurant again.”
“Michelin starred, you say? I’ll have to bring Seraphina.”
The mention of some woman’s name shoots ice through my heart. How many women do the men in this family torture?
“Who’s that?” I ask even though I know I shouldn’t get in deeper with him. It’s a mistake to show interest to someone who enjoys fucking with people’s heads.
“She was a patient of mine, but she’s become quite a bit more.” A dreamy gaze enters his eyes when he speaks of her, and I’d say he looks smitten if I didn’t know he’s too fucked up for that.
“She’s not the body, is she?” I ask.
“No, no she’s not.” But the sly little smile on his face certainly lends to what I was saying about him smelling off. “But I do need your help, Niko, whether it involves the lady’s pigs or not.”
“They’re my fucking pigs,” Niko grits but then looks back at me and stows his anger. “Gianna, I’m taking Shane out back to dispose of the body without the pigs.”
“I’m coming with you,” I insist, and while he tries to argue, he eventually realizes it’s pointless.
I’m not letting him go out into the night with Shane without someone watching his back. He could be the one who winds up disposed of, and despite all my earlier claims of hatred, that’s very far from what I want.
“I promise I won’t feed the body to the pigs. You could be seen. You need to stay behind.”
I step up to his side to whisper in his ear. “I don’t trust him, and you’re not going anywhere without me.”
He grudgingly agrees and sneaks me out of the house through the garage and the extremely tinted windows of his BMW sedan.
He instructs Shane to follow us to one of the barns, and we both pull inside. Niko closes the bay door and locks it before allowing me to get out of the car. I stay quiet, looking around, taking stock of all the farming equipment.
“Not to seem forward,” Shane says, “but are you alright? You seem like something is weighing on you.”
I’m so thrown off by the astute observation that I’m quiet for a minute. I want to tell him he’s wrong or to fuck off, but I can’t even look at him.
“I’m fine.”
“Of course. My mistake,” he answers, but his eyes tell a different story.
“You see those vats over there.” Niko points at a series of blue tanks. “Industrial farming acid. I can afford to lose one for you to dissolve your problems and save the virtue of the lady's pigs.”
“Thank you, Niko,” I tell him sweetly, grateful this night is coming to a close.
“This is very kind of you.” Shane smiles, and it’s really not right that he and Pax are so handsome.
“Not kind. You owe me. I’ll collect eventually,” Niko tells him.
“Of course you will,” Shane says with a sarcastic sigh, revealing a little of the real him beneath the charm. “Leave it to good old Niko to remember every cent he’s owed, right?”
“You’ll owe me big.” Niko squares his shoulders.
Shane gestures toward me. “And your secret here isn’t repayment?”
“She’s hardly a secret, but there’s this little thing called timing. Interfere with mine, and you will wind up dead, Shane. You may play around in your patients' heads and try your hand at murder, but I promise you the people I want dead, die.”
A little of my anxiety dies as he speaks.
“Why be uncivil?” Shane puts his fake voice back on. “I’m just going to dissolve this one body and be on my way.”
We watch as he yanks a blond-haired man out of his trunk, a sling hangs around the victim’s neck, but neither arm is secured. Poor man is a pretty good-looking guy, barring the death pallor.
“Who is he?” Niko asks.
“The question is who was he, and the answer is no one.”