Chapter 14 Giovanni
GIOVANNI
I fight the urge to carry Meggie into the bedroom and fuck her until she screams. I can still feel the imprint of her naked body against mine, the way we meld together like a key slotting into the lock for which it was made.
Sending her underground would be like burying a rare flower to stop it from blooming, even if it is for her own safety.
“You’re alive.” She tilts her head back and kisses me on the lips. “When I woke up and you were gone, I thought…” She leaves the sentence hanging.
I kiss her long and hard, exploring her mouth with my tongue until Demi emerges through the hatch clutching a pair of wine glasses.
“A girl needs some emotional support occasionally,” she says, following my gaze.
“Gio.” Meggie leans against me, one arm around my waist. “Is he…?”
“It’s over.” She doesn’t need a summary of what happened. “He can’t hurt you or Amber now.”
I feel the energy drain from Meggie’s body as she leans against me and I hold her close, stroking her hair while my eyes meet Demi’s.
She arches an eyebrow quizzically, and I shake my head.
We’re no closer to finding Amber, but she’s here.
His own daughter is a pawn in his twisted game and he’s dangling her like an invisible proverbial carrot right under our noses.
As if sensing the silent communication between me and Demi, Meggie places both hands on my chest and pushes herself away from me so that she can look into my eyes. “He didn’t tell you where Amber is, did he?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, fiore. I tried. She’s here in Stowe, but he was right about one thing, we’re not looking at it objectively because we’re too emotionally attached. So, I want Demi to lead the search.”
The frown lines between Demi’s eyebrows smooth out. She’s been sitting around for too long, and now this is her time to shine, to do what she trained to do: be a cop and solve the case.
“I’m going with her.” There’s a glint in Meggie’s eyes daring me to refuse her. She isn’t asking for my permission; she’s telling it like it is.
“I wouldn’t dream of stopping you, fiore. You’re safe now, but Bruno and his team will help. Use them. The more resources we throw at this, the quicker we’ll be able to find her.”
It takes several beats for the implications of what I said to sink in. When they do, her eyes narrow. “What about you? Where will you be?”
I take her hands and hold them gently. Since Amber went missing, Meggie has felt so fragile, so breakable, I’m scared that if she’s pushed too far, she’ll snap in two like a brittle twig.
But then I remind myself that she helped the actor Romano escape, survived a car wreckage with minor injuries, and revealed the enemy’s whereabouts with zero help from me.
Then she looked all her past fears squarely in the face and demanded that the Fish tell her where he buried her mom.
Meggie is a million miles away from being fragile.
She is undoubtedly the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I already know that she will continue to surprise me every day for the rest of our lives.
“There is something I must do, Meggie. I’m sorry. But I have every faith that you will find her.”
She nibbles her bottom lip, and oh, how I want to lick every inch of her, taste her inside and out, fill her with my cum until it oozes out from between her legs.
“Is it Bianca?”
I forget that Meggie already knows more about my family than any other woman I’ve ever met, and I wonder if I subconsciously invited her in because I knew that she would always be a part of my life.
“I have to find her. She’s family…”
“Gio, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I understand.” Her eyes dart briefly to Demi and back again. She sucks in a deep breath. “I spoke to Bianca. On your cell phone. I should’ve told you sooner, but there wasn’t time, and she made me promise not to tell you.”
The words spill out like water from a cracked jug, and I don’t stop her.
“She said … that Tommy Romano was the pin in the grenade. She begged me to set him free. She promised to help me find Amber, said that you were not the only one with contacts.” Meggie’s breathing grows shallow as she recalls the conversation.
“There was no time. I didn’t know what to do, but I believed her when she said she would help me.
I’m so sorry, Gio. I shouldn’t have believed her over you. ”
Fat tears roll down her cheeks, and she swipes them away with the back of her hand.
The call from the unknown number. I knew it had to have triggered Meggie’s erratic behavior, but I never thought…
“You have nothing to apologize for, Meggie.” I hold her arms until she raises her swollen eyes. “You were trying to save your sister. No one could ever blame you for that.”
“You’re not … angry with me?”
I smile. “How could I ever be angry with you?”
“But … Tommy Romano…”
“You led us straight to Amber’s father. Some would call it divine intervention.”
Her mouth twists into a lopsided smile and she sniffs loudly. “I guess we’re both just trying to save our sisters.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I wrap an arm around Meggie’s shoulders and guide her towards the bedroom. I can’t leave without saying goodbye properly.
“Hey, don’t worry about me, guys,” Demi says as she continues along the hallway. “I’ll just get acquainted with Mr. Grigio here.”
I close the bedroom door with my foot and cross the room with Meggie in my arms.
“There’s a special delivery waiting for you in the private jet.” The hint of amusement in Enzo’s voice at the other end of the call is unmistakable.
I’m waiting to board the jet at the Morrisville-Stowe State Airport, traveling onward to Nevada.
Alone. Bruno and his team are staying in Vermont until Amber is safely reunited with her sister.
They wanted to come with me, but they have already done far more than I can ever repay them for; this is my offering to them.
The war. It will lay the foundations for a peaceful future for our Sicilian families.
“This will make up for all the missed birthday and Christmas gifts, but you owe me one.” Enzo cuts the call.
I down my brandy and cross the small expanse of tarmac to the waiting jet. The familiar smell of polish and comfort surrounds me as I stow my overnight bag and take my seat opposite Enzo’s ‘special delivery’. A member of the Russian bratva.
The steward fetches me a glass of champagne which he offers, one-handed, on a small silver tray. He doesn’t acknowledge my travel companion but discreetly keeps his back to the dark-haired man and returns to the front of the cabin to resume his position until my glass needs topping up.
I study the man sitting opposite me. He has the same swarthy features as Mario’s friend, the one who made the fatal mistake of abusing my sister while the camera rolled: heavy-lidded eyes, thick black hair, the tattoo near his eye of the hammer and sickle with a snake curling upwards.
And an air of entitlement that he should’ve ditched the moment he became the ‘package’ out of New York City.
He has a lot to learn.
Enzo and my security team caught him trying to fraternize with a regular client, a wealthy socialite with a penchant for diamonds, casinos, and toy boys.
But clearly not the Russian variety. Only my friend here failed to read the signals and decided to pursue his carnal urges anyway, something that I will never tolerate. Whether it’s on my premises or not.
He is gagged, the tender skin around his mouth swollen and sore. His wrists and ankles are secured with thick coarse rope, and he is bound to the seat across the table with more of the same. His eyes are still moving though, flashing daggers of pure hatred my way.
I sip my champagne. “I’ll make this simple for you. I’ll ask the questions, and you will nod for yes and shake your head for no.”
Grunts escape from behind the rag in his mouth, and he struggles to wrench his limbs free from their constraints. We both know that the only way he is getting out of here is by cooperating, but he hasn’t quite mastered the rules.
“Did Yevgeny Kuzmin send you to my casino?”
The skin on his face stretches, becomes taut, as he tries to work around the gag to spit in my face. The anger in his eyes belies his epic failure.
I already know the answer. Before Meggie told me about her conversation with Bianca, I’d had the unknown call traced back to a remote address in Nevada.
Demi used her influence within the NYPD to track down the only property to have been built within the zip code in the last thirty years.
A fortress. A fortress purchased by a company whose managing director happens to be Yevgeny Kuzmin.
Strangely, the Department of State held no financial records on the company, nor was it able to supply the names of any other directors or sponsors.
The final link was sealed when Meggie confirmed that Bianca had made the call.
I resume the quiz. “Did Mr. Kuzmin promise you a share of my empire in return for getting the cops involved?”
His nose wrinkles as if he finds my family jet not quite up to his usual standards.
I smile, swallow another mouthful of champagne. “Does the name Mario D’Angelo mean anything to you?”
The warring glint in his eyes becomes insular; the name has struck a nerve. My brother-in-law has that effect on people. There’s something inherently unlikeable about him which only seems to increase as his urges become more twisted and predatorial.
“He’s not on the invitation list for your next party, huh?” Deep breath. “I get it. The man is a reptile. He’ll say what you want to hear, shake hands on a deal that will, if it comes to fruition, expand your bratva reach. Then, he’ll make the same deal with your enemy.”