9
SERAFINA
I spend the entire night tossing and turning, images of Brady bleeding out under Luca’s knife plaguing my dreams, a myriad of scenarios running through my mind. I could hear Giovanni lingering outside my bedroom door all night, but between the incident with Luciano and Brady, I couldn’t find the energy to tell him to leave.
Instead, I allowed my own demons to wage war in my head. I’d be an idiot to ignore the fear and anxiety crawling under my skin. Luciano was the last person I thought would step foot on my premises, but I guess I should have known that guy does whatever he wants regardless of the consequences. He doesn’t understand fear like I do because he’s usually the one inflicting it. All that man has ever done is cause pain and suffering, I had to find that out the hard way.
A tired sigh escapes me as I gaze at myself in the mirror. Dark eyes and pale skin reflect back at me. Being exhausted, yet not tired enough to sleep starts to war with your mind. The evidence of my lack of rest shows clearly on my face, and not even my make up can cover it. Try as I might, being a cold-hearted leader isn’t as easy as it looks.
I wanted to make Brady pay for what he did, he deserved to be made an example of. But I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t stand there and act like it didn’t affect me. Dead bodies will never be normal.
A low whistle comes from across the room. Levi relaxes on my couch while his eyes are trained on me. Appreciation swims in his gaze, making my cheeks warm under the intensity. “Looking good, Bianchi.”
I smile, feeling the blush creep up on my cheeks.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come along?” Levi asks.
I watch him through the mirror on the wall as I slip on some earrings. “By us, do you mean you? Because I don’t recall you being invited,” I laugh.
He rolls his eyes at me before standing up and messing with his suit jacket. “I don’t see Gio’s invitation anywhere.” His words are filled with a subtle resentment, a sliver of jealousy lacing them.
“Gio is my bodyguard,” I say, spinning around to face him. “One who you insisted I have. He goes wherever I go, right? Anyway, this is a social event. Giovanni and I will be fine for a few hours.”
I don’t miss the barely audible grumble from him as I mess with the straps to my dress. I’ve gone for a simple black dress that hugs my curves and trails behind me. It’s effortlessly elegant, in my opinion, and from the way Levi is watching me, I’d say it’s a hit. I shake the thought from my head— I didn’t put this on for him. Still, his gaze as he approaches me is filled with the familiar lust I saw a few days ago, and it has my stomach somersaulting.
We still haven’t spoken about the kiss, or the way it made me feel. It’s totally on me because I made the first move, but Levi didn’t stop me, and he sure as hell didn’t tell me it was wrong. In fact, it was the opposite. He wanted more, he wanted me to admit it was more than a kiss. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t, but he’s my second. I need to maintain distance and respect, not allow any possibility of feelings or emotions to blur my plans.
I need to focus on the Verdis, on making them pay for what they did. I don’t have time to lose myself in romance.
“I should be there, in case something happens to you,” he states firmly. His gaze is immobilizing as he gets closer .
I step back at his closing proximity, my back pressing against the wall. “I don’t think anything will happen at this gala, Levi. It’s full of stuck up businessmen who would rather boast about their latest expense than assassinate someone.”
“Are you including your father in that list, too?” he teases.
“Maybe,” I reply, biting my bottom lip to contain the smirk. We both know I’m doing this for my father.
The Governor hosts a gala every summer, inviting all the socialites, the wealthy and truly powerful people this side of the Bay. Every man and his wife—sometimes mistress—turns up to these events, my father included. It’s a chance to socialize with the families who built the Governor’s empire, support him to no end, and in taking my father’s position, I’m also caught up in this.
“Oh, Bianchi,” Levi sighs, gripping my chin. His thumb dances over my bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement carefully. I’m glad I haven’t put on lipstick because it would definitely have smudged by now.
I suck in a breath when he closes the remaining distance, pressing his hard body against mine. My eyes land on those luscious lips that I stole a kiss from just the other day. His cologne hypnotizes me with that familiar spicy scent, and the way he smiles has my pulse kicking up several notches.
“Levi, I?—“
“I’m not going to lie. I’m jealous,” he growls as he towers over me. He runs his hand up the gap in my dress, that exposes my thigh.
“Of?” I bite back the urge to weaken under his touch. But there’s only so much self-control I can muster in this proximity. When his lips descend onto my neck, my eyes roll to the back of my head. I succumb to the gentle touch of his mouth, the caress of his palm as it skates higher. I never considered whether I was attracted to Levi before, but now that my focus is set on avenging Enzo’s death, the mourning has been replaced with something akin to desire.
“Of everyone seeing you in this dress.”
I can’t help the stifled moan that escapes me when he nips my earlobe, his fingertips skating dangerously close to my underwear. Levi has taken our moment together to a new level and as much as I know I should be setting boundaries, I can’t bring myself to create the distance.
“You look ravishing, Bianchi. Good enough to?—“
A throat clears, snapping my attention to where the sound came from. Giovanni.
Levi pulls away slowly, smirking as his eyes linger on my flushed face.
Eventually, I turn to Giovanni standing in the doorway, his tux perfectly tailored to his muscular body, his hair smoothed back with just the slightest dusting of gray hairs close to his ears. It occurs to me that I don’t even know how old he is. I can’t imagine he’s much older than any of us, but he does radiate a maturity that Levi doesn’t.
Giovanni nods at me, and I smile back. “I’m ready,” I say, pushing past Levi.
I halt in my steps when Levi grabs my hand, pinning me with a stare. “I might not be allowed in, Bianchi,” he warns, stepping close to me once more. “But I’ll be there.”
I don’t question Levi’s motives or his position. I know he’s worried, and after Luciano’s visit last night, he has good reason to be. The only thing filling me with confidence is the fact the Verdi’s have no standing when it comes to the Governor, and that’s exactly where I am heading to tonight.
While Levi’s eyes refuse to look away, Giovanni guides me to the car. I settle in the back, watching Levi head to his Porsche. There’s no point in fighting him on this. Even though I’m his boss, his job and his intentions, are to make sure I am safe. I can’t argue with that.
As soon as the engine starts, I sink back into the plush leather. Giovanni peels us away, heading further from the Bay and into the City. It’s still light outside by the time we reach the venue, a hotel bought out for the night by the Governor. Despite the exclusivity, the place is teeming with paparazzi, reporters and people trying to catch a glimpse of those who are rarely seen.
I guess I can count myself as one of those invisible figures because not many recognize me .
The door opens beside me, and when I look up, Giovanni is standing ready for me to take his hand. His green eyes are locked on mine, watching me carefully. Giovanni’s job might be to protect me, but right now, he’s gazing down at me like I have a choice.
Taking a deep breath, I place my hand in his. He might be giving me a choice, but we both know I’m obligated to show my face here.
The roar of the crowd outside drives me closer to Giovanni. The air is thick with the summer heat and the taint of desperation oozing from the groupies. I push closer to my guard. It’s mostly subconscious but I make no effort to right myself.
Since the day Giovanni walked through my office door, I’ve sensed something about him. His presence is alluring and safe. I feel no judgment from his silent stares, just the sensation that I can be myself. Having him by my side calms me, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say the guy was attractive, too. But he’s my bodyguard. He has a job to do.
As we walk past the flashing cameras and screaming voices, Giovanni’s hold on my hand tightens. I wish I could say I wasn’t nervous, but I’d be a liar. Events like this put me on edge, especially since Enzo’s passing. Since Levi isn’t officially invited, I have no choice but to put my trust solely in my bodyguard.
A rush of warm air greets our faces as we’re thrusted into new surroundings. We enter through large wooden doors, adorned with solid brass fixtures that shimmer too bright. Extravagant chandeliers hang brightly from the ceiling of the great hall, while matching candelabras cling to the walls. Deep red carpets trail a path through the room, cushioning our feet the further we step. The red and gold theme screams royalty, and is a perfect reflection of the one person who holds these events.
My eyes scatter among the hordes of people. There are few faces here that I actually recognize, but the one I latch onto, is already smiling at me.
With my hand in Giovanni’s, I give it a comforting squeeze. “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter.
“ Tesora!” My father beams as he approaches. With a hard yank, he pulls me into a hug, breaking my only physical tether to my bodyguard. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Pa.” It’s a half-assed response since the last time we spoke he was berating me for saying goodbye to my best friend. I don’t hold many grudges, but yeah, I’m still pissy about him treating me like a child, when he is the very reason I’m in this position.
“Come,” my father says, snapping me out of my thoughts and taking my hand. “There are some people I want you to meet.”
He takes off before I have the chance to stop him. Always wanting to be the man in charge, we have no choice but to follow him. With Giovanni by my side, I feel calm and collected enough to handle the situation I know my father is about to throw me into. Even after taking his place, he still insists on using me to butter up officials. I’m not the na?ve little girl from ten years ago, though. I understand fully what my father’s intentions are, and while I hate every second he flounces me in front of people, labeling me his protegé, I’m using it to my advantage.
I reach the group of socialites, where my father holds his hand out for me to join him.
“Governor, meet my daughter.”
My eyes slide to a man who looks around the same age as my father. He could probably shake a few years if it weren’t for the permanent tan and leathery looking skin. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back, his lips parting as he smiles to display a few gold crowns.
“Your father has told me so much about you,” he states, taking my hand to shake.
“All good, I hope?”
My father laughs as he presses a hand to my back. It’s a possessive move, a warning not to mess this up. The action is a clear move of power; I might have taken his position, but he’s still in charge.
“This is Governor D’Angelo. A good friend, better ally.” I don’t miss the wink my father gives the man in front of me. It sends a chill crawling up my spine because I know exactly what his words mean.
If my father has the Governor in his pocket, it means I need to keep up appearances to receive the same treatment. Having someone of political power on your side is only good for so many things. But that can easily be taken away.
“Serafina,” D’Angelo husks. “How is your dancing?” He gestures to the dance floor at the back of the room, where music plays gracefully in the background.
My father nudges me gently, forcing me to control the scowl determined to make an appearance. This is the Governor giving me a way in, an opening to build an alliance. I’d be an idiot not to accept.
“I think I can keep up,” I say with a smile.
Without hesitation, D’Angelo takes my hand and guides me through the room. I feel the eyes watching us as we take position, the Governor spinning me into his hold. He leads the way, gently turning and swaying.
“So, how long have you known my father?”
The Governor pins me with a cautious stare before answering, “We go way back. He helped me get into office…”
“And you help him with the rest.” I don’t know how much this man knows about my family’s business, but I’m wary enough to tread carefully.
“You’re smart. I like that.” D’Angelo nods, pulling me closer to him. I can tell by the way D’Angelo’s eyes scour over my body that he doesn’t appreciate my brains at all. Men like him don’t have the capacity to care about those things. Men like D’Angelo prefer beauty over brains, something that makes him stand out in a good way. Someone who makes him look desirable. I know, I’ve done my research. The Governor has had three wives, and two of those were younger than me.
“Your father has left quite a legacy,” the Governor states as we sway to the gentle music.
“He did,” I agree. I don’t need a reminder of the work I need to do to fix the mess I’m in, and I certainly don’t need the Governor to put his two cents in.
I’m more determined than ever to prove what I can do, and if I need to schmooze with politicians to do that, so be it.
“I would say it’s some big shoes to fill, but I can already tell you will do well.” His eyes linger on my chest, unashamedly. “And of course, I’ll honor the agreement set with your father.”
I wish I could say I was happy to hear those words, but with the way he keeps looking at me, I’m increasingly aware of his intentions. His hands are creeping further south the longer we talk. I can already tell where this is going, and as my eyes dart around the room, nobody is watching anymore. It’s like this moment was designed, planned for the Governor to have this very conversation with me. Only, his intentions are becoming clearer the longer we dance.
“I don’t need anything,” I state, not missing the suggestion in his tone. I hesitate to ask, but I need to know. I need to prepare myself for what I know is coming. “You’re in office now, what do you need from me?”
“It’s not what I need, my dear. You need a way to import freely, correct?” He’s referring to the drugs and weapons my family imports. It’s the family’s income; something I’m not too proud about, but you can’t choose family, I guess. He tilts his head, eyes finally meeting mine. “So, let’s make this work, for both of us. ”
The Governor spins me, and as I turn, my eyes lock onto Giovanni. Thankfully, he’s not too far away but he’s already taking slow steps towards us in preparation. I shake my head, almost imperceptibly. It’s enough for my bodyguard to slow his pace, watching carefully from a short distance.
“I scratch your back, you scratch mine.” The Governor smiles at me, his lips turned up in cocky fashion. I try to push away, but he’s got me pinned against him. I frown, because that’s all I can do. Showing too much emotion will show my cards, but I can’t fight the confusion and anger bubbling beneath the surface.
He spins me around once more, yanking me close to his body. My back presses to his chest, and almost immediately I feel the hardness. “I’ll take great pleasure in giving you whatever you want, my dear.” He rasps in my ear. If it were anyone else, I would probably find it sexy. But nothing about this man screams sex appeal.
I resist the urge to push away, to grimace at the sleaziness of his words. Instead, I focus on Giovanni’s gaze. It keeps us both in place, at least until I give him the signal.
“I’ll give you the same warning I gave your father, Bianchi. Fuck me over, and you’ll wish you were dead.”
Steeling my emotions, I stiffen my posture. Anger threatens to boil, while Luca’s words echo in the back of my mind.
Nobody talks to a Bianchi like this. I am a leader, and I need to prove that I won’t take any shit.
Sliding back against the Governor, I tilt my head up at him and flutter my eyelashes. “You think that’s the appropriate way to talk to a lady?”
His grip lessens, only enough for me to turn around and slip my hand between us. His eyes widen when I grip his prized jewels unforgivably, and through gritted teeth, I offer up a warning of my own.
“Threatening a Bianchi is enough to seal your own fate, Governor. You don’t know me or what I am capable of.” I tighten my fist around his balls. “These are mine, D’Angelo. Don’t you fucking forget it!”
Pushing me off him, I stumble backwards, my back hitting a hard body. Hands gently capture my arms, keeping me upright while I watch the Governor scamper off.
Giovanni steps around me, staring me down with disapproval.
“What?” I snap, rolling the tension from my shoulders. “ Faccia di merda .”