Mihai
MIHAI
I ’m standing with my arms crossed, leaning against the wall of the Main Crown Suite, watching Giovanni pace like a caged animal. His fists clench and unclench, his face a storm of fury that looks like it’s moments away from exploding.
Connor is sitting on the arm of the couch nursing a beer and quiet for once. His gaze follows Giovanni’s every step, like he’s waiting for the exact second he has to jump in and stop him from breaking something.
“I’m close to losing my shit,” Giovanni snaps, his voice slicing through the heavy silence. “That fucker sold us out. I know I shouldn’t be fucking surprised since he hates Chiara, but—” he stops, turning to face us, his dark eyes wild. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to find out your own father has been betraying everything you’ve been raised to protect?”
I don’t blame him for losing it. I’d be the same way if I found out my father had orchestrated something like this. Hell, I’d probably be worse. But right now, someone needs to keep a lid on Gio before he storms out of here and does something stupid.
I exchange a glance with Nikolai, who’s leaning against the edge of the pool table, his usual smirk replaced by a grim expression.
“G,” I say, pushing off the wall, my voice calm but firm. “I get it. Believe me, I do. But losing your shit right now isn’t gonna fix anything.”
His glare swings to me, sharp enough to cut, but I don’t back down. “What the fuck do you expect me to do, ? Sit here and twiddle my fucking thumbs while my father burns everything to the ground?”
“We get it,” Nikolai says, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “But blowing a gasket isn’t gonna fix this.”
Giovanni spins on his heel to face Nikolai. “I’m not blowing a fucking gasket. I’m deciding how to kill the bastard.”
Connor takes a slow sip of his beer before setting the bottle down. “And I’m sure that’s a solid plan, Gio, but maybe save the patricide for later.”
“We have something that could use your particular mood right now,” Nikolai says, looking at Gio. “Put that rage to good use.”
Gio raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah? And how the fuck do you suggest I do that?”
Nikolai smirks but there’s no humor in it, just a cold, calculating edge. “We’ve got the guy who tried to kill Maddy down in the basement. You want to take your anger out on someone? He’s all yours. And if we’re lucky, he might have a name or two to give us.”
Connor leans back, arms crossed over his chest. “Finally, a fucking good idea from you, Niko. Thought I was going to have to wait another decade for one of those.”
Nikolai flips him off without even looking at him. “Piss off, Con.”
Gio doesn’t need much convincing. His jaw tightens, and he nods, his hands flexing like he’s already imagining wrapping them around the guy’s throat.
“Fine. Let’s see what this piece of shit has to say.”
I lead the way out of the suite, the tension following us like a shadow. The basement isn’t far, but the walk feels longer, heavier, like the weight of what we’re about to do presses on all of us. The moment we step into the cold, dimly lit room, the guy tied to the chair jerks his head up, his eyes wild.
“Fucking hell,” Connor mutters, looking the guy over. He’s bruised, bloody, and barely conscious, but he flinches at the sight of us, especially Giovanni. “He doesn’t look like he’s got much left in him.”
“Doesn’t need much,” Giovanni says, his voice a low growl as he steps forward. “Just enough to tell me who sent him.”
Giovanni steps closer, rolling up his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate. The guy’s breathing picks up as Gio crouches in front of him, his face calm but his eyes anything but.
“Hey, there,” Giovanni says, his tone almost conversational. “You’re gonna tell me what I need to know. And if you don’t…” He tilts his head slightly, his voice dropping lower. “Well, let’s just say I’m not in the mood to be patient.”
The guy must see the murder in his eyes because he starts to squirm, his breaths coming faster.
“I don’t know shit,” he blurts out, his voice cracking. “I was just following orders, man. That’s it.”
“Whose orders?”
The guy shakes his head, blood dripping from his nose. “I can’t—I can’t tell you.”
“Wrong answer,” Gio growls, grabbing the guy by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward. “You don’t get to hold out on me. Not after what you tried to do.”
The guy’s eyes widen, and he stammers, “I swear, I don’t know! I just?—”
The first punch lands hard, Gio’s fist connecting with the man’s jaw with a sickening crack. The guy cries out, his head snapping to the side, but Gio doesn’t give him a chance to recover. Another punch, then another, each one more brutal than the last.
“Gio,” I say, stepping forward. “Don’t kill him yet. Not until we get what we need.”
He pauses, breathing hard, his fist hovering in the air. “Start talking,” he demands, his voice a low growl. “Who sent you?”
The guy spits at him, the bloodied mess landing near Giovanni’s boots. “Go to hell.”
Giovanni doesn’t flinch. Instead, he pulls a knife from his pocket and flicks it open. “Oh, Hell’s got nothing on me right now.”
“Fucking Christ, G,” Nikolai mutters, though he doesn’t stop him.
Giovanni moves with precision, grabbing the guy by the hair and tilting his head back. The blade presses lightly against his throat, just enough to get his attention. “Who sent you?”
The guy glares up at him, his breathing ragged. “Your mother.”
“Wrong answer again.” Giovanni’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw, the crack of bone on bone echoing in the room. He steps back, flexing his hand as the guy groans in pain, blood dripping from his mouth.
The man coughs, spitting blood onto the floor. “It—it was just a job! I don’t know names?—”
Gio slams his fist into the guy’s gut, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“G—” I start, but he cuts me off with a glare.
“I’m handling it, .”
Connor sighs, leaning back against the wall. “This is gonna be messy.”
“That’s the point,” Nikolai says, watching Giovanni like a hawk.
Giovanni crouches again, his knife glinting in the low light. “Let’s try this again. Who. Sent. You?”
The man wheezes, gasping for air, his head lolling forward. “Okay! Okay! Alberto Giannini. It was Giannini!” he cries out, coughing up blood.
“Bullshit,” Giovanni snaps, slamming the knife into the guy’s thigh. “You’re just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear.”
“It’s the truth!” the guy gasps. “Giannini sent me. But… but Vito Basile… he gave him the details. It was all him. Vito wanted the girl gone.”
The room goes deathly quiet, the name hanging in the air like a bomb about to explode. Gio steps back, his fists clenching at his sides as he processes the confirmation of what we already suspected.
“You’re sure?” Nikolai asks, his voice cold. “You’re not just saying that to save your own ass?”
“I’m sure,” the guy stammers, his voice weak. “I swear! Vito gave the orders.”
Gio doesn’t hesitate. His fist comes down again, this time slamming into the guy’s temple. The man goes limp, his head lolling to the side, and the room falls silent except for the sound of Gio’s heavy breathing.
“You didn’t have to kill him,” Connor mutters, though there’s no real reproach in his voice.
“Yes, I did,” Gio says, his tone flat, wiping his bloodied hands on his pants. “He was a loose end.”
Nikolai shrugs, stepping forward to inspect the body. “He wouldn’t have lasted long anyway. Not with what he knew.”
I watch Giovanni as he stands over the body, his face hard and unreadable. The tension in the room is thick, the kind that clings to your skin and refuses to let go. None of us say anything for a moment, letting the reality of what just happened settle in.
“You two go,” I say finally, breaking the silence. My voice sounds steadier than I feel. “I’ll have this cleaned up.”
Giovanni looks at me, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure?”
I nod. “Yeah. Go cool off, Gio. You’ve done enough for tonight. Nikolai, make sure G doesn’t kill anyone else.”
Giovanni hesitates, then jerks his chin in a silent acknowledgment. He steps around the mess, his boots leaving faint prints on the concrete, and heads for the door. Nikolai follows him, his expression cold as he glances back once before disappearing up the stairs.
That leaves Connor and me alone in the room. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his green eyes scanning the bloodied scene with a mix of weariness and frustration.
“Connor,” I say, meeting his gaze. “Go sit with Maddy for a while.”
He raises an eyebrow, pushing off the wall. “You think she’s up for company?”
“She’ll be up for yours,” I reply, grabbing a pair of gloves from the shelf. “She needs to feel safe, and you’re the least threatening of us right now.”
Connor smirks faintly, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You saying I’m not scary, Vasile?”
I roll my eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You know what I mean.”
Connor straightens, grabbing his jacket from the chair. “Alright, I’ll go. But what about you? You gonna be okay down here?”
“I’m fine,” I say, pulling the gloves on. “I’ve got this.”
He hesitates for a moment, studying me like he’s trying to read something in my expression. Then he nods, turning toward the door. Just before he steps out, I call after him.
“Connor.”
He glances back, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
“My father knows,” I say, the words coming out more casually than I expected.
His brow furrows. “Knows what?”
“About how I feel about Maddy,” I admit, my voice steady. “I told him, and he gave me his blessing.”
For a moment, Connor just stares at me. Then he lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well, shit. Didn’t see that comin’.”
“Neither did I,” I admit. “But it’s not as simple as that.”
“Nothin’ worth somethin’ ever is,” Connor says, his tone softer now. “But hey, at least you’ve got Ion in your corner. That’s not nothin’.”
I nod, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks, Con.”
He gives me a mock salute, his usual playful grin returning. “Anytime, mate. Now go play janitor while I charm Maddy’s socks off.”
I laugh, shaking my head as he disappears up the stairs. Then it’s just me and the mess left behind, the echoes of Giovanni’s anger still lingering in the air. I pull Gio’s knife from the guy’s thigh and slam it into his throat for good measure, watching as he bleeds out.
Afterward, I remove the gloves, pull out my phone to call the clean-up crew, and then I wait.
I wonder what Maddy would think if she really knew about all the blood I have on my hands.