Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Rush
I see the inspectors out, whistling as I head back to my office.
Not only did the meeting with the inspectors go well, the meeting with Matteo was a success, but after multiple orgasms, my mood is the best it’s been in…years.
Gigi makes me happy.
I stop in the middle of the open office space marveling at the feeling. I haven’t felt this good for a long time. I guess being in love can do that to a man.
I didn’t think it was even possible.
But here I am, promising that she’s mine, promising to take care of her.
Every fiber in my body wants to provide and protect. And then there is the possessiveness I feel. I can’t stand another man looking at her like he might want her. It drives me insane.
I get my feet moving again. The sooner I make it through the pile of work on my desk the sooner I can get Gigi alone in her apartment.
But as I turn into my office, I find Gris and Killian waiting for me. Gris looks grim enough that I’m wondering if someone has died. And Killian…his face is a complete mask.
My brothers are never waiting in my office for me.
“What’s wrong?”
Gris rearranges his face, giving me a smile. Killian is not much for sugarcoating.
“How was the meeting with the inspectors?” Gris asks, taking a seat on the couch.
That’s when I notice a file folder on the coffee table. “What’s in the folder?”
“Bad news,” Killian rumbles. “How’d the meeting go?”
“Good. Permits are coming through.” I stand straighter, done answering questions. I want answers.
Killian grabs the folder tucking it under his arm.
Is that how this is going to go? “Killian,” I grit through my teeth. “What’s in the fucking folder?”
“We need to talk first,” he answers, which is not really an answer.
“Not until you tell me what’s in the folder.”
He sighs. “No.”
My teeth are clenched tight enough to make diamonds. “Don’t pull this big brother bullshit. This is my office.”
“This is personal,” Gris says, leaning forward, like he’s trying to catch my attention. “And if we’re careful with this, it could really be to our advantage, but only if we’re careful.”
That makes me relax the slightest bit. I’ll take any advantage I can get. “I’ll bite. How do we need to be careful?”
But once again, my question is met with a question. “How do you feel about Gigi?”
That throws me, and my head whips back. “What does Gigi have to do with this?”
“Everything,” Killian adds, looking truly pained.
I’m not angry anymore, instead, dread fills my limbs and I start pacing like a caged animal. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Brother, please answer the question,” Gris pulls my attention to him again. “How do you feel about Gigi?”
“I want to marry her,” I answer, the truth of the words calming me.
Killian’s eyes widen in surprise. “That’s good.”
“I’m not so sure,” Gris answers, shaking his head.
“What the fuck are you two talking about?” I say, my voice way louder than is likely necessary.
Gris stands. “You remember that there were some questions about Gigi’s identity?”
My spine snaps straight. “Jesus fucking Christ, just spit it out.”
“Gigi’s real name is Giulia,” Gris starts.
“All right,” I shake my head. Because the nickname Gigi completely makes sense.
Killian stands, holding out the file folder. “Giulia Andriani…”
“Like Matteo Andriani,” I roar. Are they related? All kinds of possible scenarios run through my mind. My hands come to my head, my chin tucking into my chest as I squat. “Tell me that what I’m thinking isn’t true.”
“It isn’t,” Gris answers, calmly. Quietly. Too calm and way too quiet. How he even knows what I’m thinking I couldn’t say.
I jerk my head up and snatch the folder from Killian’s extended hand.
Standing, I open the folder, the picture making my chest so tight, my heart threatens to explode.
It’s Gigi, my fucking Gigi, on the arm of Vigo Sinclair.
“Her name is Giulia Andriani Sinclair.” Killian’s arms cross over his chest. “Emma’s name, however, is Emma Andriani.”
But I barely hear it. I don’t know what the fuck is going on but the woman I love, the one I just said I wanted to marry, has told lies so thick and so deep, who knows where they might end.
I drop the folder, grabbing my phone from my pocket and hit Gigi’s name.
“Rush,” Gris grabs my arm. “This is why we were waiting to tell you. We need to be thoughtful. There is an advantage to be had if we just don’t?—”
“Hello?” Gigi says into the phone. “Rush? Is everything all right?” I can hear the copier in the background. Her tone so soft and sweet as it comes through the line. “Do you need me in your office?”
My breath comes out in harsh gasps as Killian steps up right into my face, his nose a few inches from mine.
His eyes are narrowed, and there is no mistaking his expression. He’s pissed.
I don’t fucking care.
“Rush?” she asks again, sounding alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Gris tightens his grip on my arm. I know what they want me to do. Pretend. Strategize. But this is my life. My fucking heart.
I take a long deep breath through my nose. “Gigi.”
“What is it?” she asks. I hear a door open. “I’ll be right up. Sorry it took so long. There was?—”
“You’re fired.” And then I hang up the phone.
A second later, Killian’s anvil of a fist crashes into my nose. Blood sprays as I stumble back.
I catch myself, setting my feet and reversing my momentum as I throw myself at Killian with every ounce of my strength. Does he want to fight?
Fighting sounds like the best idea I’ve ever had.
I heave my shoulder into his stomach. I hear the air rush out of his mouth a second before we crash into the window.
“Stop,” Gris spits, but I don’t listen as Killian recovers, his fist plowing into my abdomen in an uppercut that has me curling over.
But I don’t need much time to recover and then I’m punching down, getting him right in the dick. That’s the thing about brothers. There are no rules.
He hits the floor like a sack. I swipe the blood off my face with my sleeve and then spin. Gigi is about to find out why I’m not a man to tangle with.
“No,” Gris says, his hands coming up.
“I will take you down,” I snarl.
Gris gives a single jerk of his chin. “I know. Somewhere along the way, you became the best of us. And the worst.”
He puts a bunch of emphasis on the last word, and I stop, the single word penetrating my thick skull. “What do you mean the worst?”
“Have you forgotten how Gigi arrived here? With bruises barely disguised with coverup? You’re really going to send her back out there? To him? What happens to her? What happens to Emma?”
What Killian did not accomplish with his fists, Gris does with his words. I suck air into my lungs. “She can’t stay in my office looking at sensitive documents.”
“They’re not going anywhere,” Killian adds, sounding pained, like he can barely draw air. “They stay.”
I look down at my brother. The one I trusted to keep them safe whenever I needed to put my focus elsewhere. He’s doing that again. It hits me square in the chest.
“You still have a tap on Gigi’s phone?” I ask Gris.
“Yes.”
“Who has she called?”
“No one,” Gris shakes his head. “You. Erika. That’s it.”
“No chance she’s got another phone?” I swipe at my bloody face again.
“Not in her desk. Not in her apartment. They’ve been searched. And nothing has shown up on any of the cameras. She hasn’t left the building since you hired her and no one has come here looking for her.” He moves to the bathroom and comes back with a wet towel. “Clean up, for fuck’s sake.”
I use the towel to swab my face, pain shooting through my face when I wipe my nose. I think Killian broke it.
Killian pulls himself from the floor, kneeling with his hands over his junk. “It’s a good fucking thing my wife is already pregnant. You could have ruined the babymaker.”
Something about him calling his dick a babymaker makes me snort, which hurts like fucking hell.
But I move to my desk and pull up the camera feed. Gigi is in her apartment pacing, and obviously crying.
My chest fucking hurts to look at her. “She call anyone since I fired her?” I ask, my hand rubbing at my temple.
Now that the haze of anger has diminished, I think maybe I could have handled that better.
“No,” Gris says looking at his phone. “The only person she’s called today is Erika, while she was in the copy room.”
“Is it a coincidence her name is Andriani?” I ask, my head spinning over that one.
“I don’t know. But if she is related to Matteo, it…” Gris stops, thinking. “It might explain why he was so quick to give us information on Vigo.”
Killian pulls out his phone. “Someone needs to text Gigi and tell her not to leave the building.”
“You think she would?” I ask, fear making my pulse tic up. Yes, I’m pissed. Yes, she’s got some serious fucking explaining to do, but she cannot leave. It’s too dangerous.
“My honest opinion is that she’s a runner. She ran from Vigo and she’s hiding here. If I’m right, after what you just did, she’ll run again.”
“Fuck,” I spit. I don’t know what I think about Gigi’s past, or how she lied, but I know I want the time to decide. “Text her, Killian.”
He nods, taking out his phone. I look at Gris. “I’ve got an idea, and this time I’ll wait for your opinion.”
“All right.”
“If we want answers, we could…call Vigo.”
Gris’s eyes go wide. “That could be like adding gasoline to a fire.”
“You won’t have time to find his successor or stabilize New York.” Killian slowly works himself up to standing.
“But he’ll come charging like a bull and you will have your chance to publicly, and with just cause, take him the fuck out.”
I know they’re allowing me to decide. I appreciate the trust they’re giving me. And if I hadn’t been so focused on winning New York, I might have noticed that they’ve trusted me this entire time, following my lead. Letting me make the choices.
I’ve wanted to be the winner of a game I’d already won.
I pull out my phone, about to tap on Vigo’s name, when the video shows that Gigi is getting a call.
“Who’s calling?” I ask Gris.
But before I can answer, she picks up the phone. I can see her on the monitor. “Who is this?”
Gris is furiously tapping buttons as he tries to bring up the captions of the call on his phone.
I hear Gigi’s cry as she crumples to her knees. “Stay away from us!”
I can’t wait another second. Grabbing the bat I keep tucked in a cabinet, I sprint for the elevator…