Chapter 27 Finn
TWENTY-SEVEN
FINN
Finn practically had to peel himself away from Gianna to let her shower and get ready for their date. If it was up to him, he would have preferred a shower together, but when he told her the reservation was in an hour and a half, she screamed and ran to the master bedroom.
He went to the other bedroom to shower himself, then shaved, and made sure he was fresh. He set the suit out in the closet to air out before he had to put it on, but it was still too early. Instead, he paced around the living room like a fucking madman.
He was nervous. Actually, nervous was an understatement.
He was anxious, jittery, and completely stressing himself out.
Sure, he had never been on a date. But goddamn, he was losing it.
He used to act so fucking cool around women, but Gianna wasn’t just anyone.
She wasn’t someone he wanted to put on a front for.
She was someone he could open up to, and he did so unintentionally.
It confused the hell out of him how easily he could talk to her; how quick he was to console her and explain himself.
Like in the car, when her face fell, he needed her to know that it wasn’t a dig towards her.
God, he wouldn’t dream of it. It was towards himself.
His own insecurities about how often people brought up his fuckups.
Considering that she might have felt the same way ignited his defenses so quickly, it was out of instinct.
But Gianna was so much like himself. She understood what it was like to be misunderstood. To have the world not truly know the real her. She put on a front the same way he had for so long, and finally her mask was starting to slip. Finn had seen it.
Fuck it. He couldn’t wait in the living room alone for another hour.
His impatience led him to the master bathroom where she had the door open and stood in front of the mirror with the robe around her body and her hair freshly blow-dried. She looked up at him, her eyes wide in panic.
“Don’t you dare come in here to rush me,” she threatened, opening what he assumed was her makeup bag.
Finn held his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You still have time. I got bored out there, so I came in here.”
Her shoulders fell in relief. “Oh, well I’m just getting ready.”
“Can I watch?”
“If you want.” Her voice was full of hesitation. “I don’t think you’ll find it very interesting.”
He shrugged, sitting on the closed toilet anyway.
She took out her creams and tubes of things, applying them each to her face with precision.
Every so often, she looked over at him in the mirror, but his eyes never left her.
Even while getting ready, she moved with such precision and elegance, executing every step perfectly.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “I meant to say it earlier, but I just got lost watching you.”
A small laugh escaped her lips. “I’m halfway through my makeup. I look wild right now.”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to ever look bad.”
“What about when you found me on the floor having a panic attack that night? I doubt I was the image of beauty.”
His mind rushed back to that night. When he saw her tear-stained face that was nearly blue from lack of oxygen.
She was in some sort of daze to the point where she didn’t hear him come in.
It was like talking to a ghost or a wall.
Physically, Gianna was there, but mentally, she was somewhere far away.
He had never seen anyone in that state before.
Sure, he had seen breakdowns and people crying before, but that night—that panic attack, as she liked to label it—that was something else. That was a breaking point.
And it fucking terrified him.
“Have you had one of those since?” he asked, completely ignoring her question.
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”
“Good. If you ever feel like you might be getting one, you call me right away. Understood?”
“Okay,” Gianna said. “I’ll call you if I ever feel one coming on again.”
“Good.” He was satisfied with that answer. He would pray that it never happened to her again, but at least he could trust that if it did, he could be there.
“You never answered my question, by the way.”
This put a smirk on his face. “You really want to know what I thought about you even when you were on the floor, nearly suffocating?”
She turned to face him fully this time, putting whatever makeup product she had in her hand down on the counter. “Yes.”
Finn stood, stalking towards her until their chests were touching. He picked up a piece of her blonde hair, twirling it in between her fingers. She smelled like strawberries—like fucking heaven. He leaned down until their lips were only inches apart.
“I was fucking terrified seeing you like that, but when you looked up at me with those big blue eyes covered in tears, something sick and fucking twisted entered my head, princess. Once you were okay, once I knew you were safe, I couldn’t help but think about how fucking perfect you would look down on your knees with those blue eyes full of tears again.
Only this time, it would be because you were choking on my cock.
” His voice was deeper, rougher than it was before.
The darkening of her eyes caused his dick to swell up in his sweats. She liked what he was saying.
His thumb swiped over her lips, feeling the plumpness of them before he pushed his thumb inside her mouth. Immediately, she sucked on his thumb, twirling her tongue around it like the fucking devil she was.
“That’s what I thought about you, princess. Fucking perfection.”
He pulled his thumb out of her mouth, fighting the urge to replace it with something else. Instead, he settled with pulling her lips onto his, giving her a devastatingly quick kiss before pulling back.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“We have dinner plans,” Finn said. “And you now have forty minutes to finish getting ready.”
“Fuck the dinner.” Gianna grinned, pulling him back in for another kiss. “Order room service."
“I’m taking you out for our first date. Room service can be saved for the next one.” He gave her one more chaste kiss before pulling away, adjusting himself in front of her. “I need to get out of here, you’re addicting.”
“Seems like your problem,” she said, closing the door to the bathroom.
He leaned his head against it, taking in a deep breath. Horrible thoughts. That’s what he needed. Horrible, disgusting thoughts to help him get rid of the boner that was begging for Gianna almost as much as he was.
He walked to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. His phone was on the counter, a text from Augustus on the screen. He opened it, shaking his head when he saw the picture of a sleeping Cecilia and Augustus right beside her.
Augustus
I owe you my fucking firstborn.
I think I’m okay without it. I hope she’s alive.
She decided to take a nap after hours of screaming at me.
Seems fitting. Enjoy your night.
There was no explanation for his best friend. None.
He made his way back into the guest bedroom, finally getting dressed in the charcoal suit he had purchased for the occasion. Surprisingly, he didn’t have a suit just sitting around in his closet like the other assholes he knew. He threw on his shoes and sprayed himself with his signature cologne.
Gianna seemed to enjoy it because she was always taking whiffs of it when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. He always caught it, though. That was why he’d repurchased it.
He pushed back his hair, keeping it messy but controlled. He wasn’t the type to do the slick back look. It never looked right on him. The untamed look was always what had suited him the best.
He passed by the full body mirror, stopping abruptly when he saw himself completely.
Finn looked every bit like what he had always wanted to be: the Kingsley Don.
He looked confident, strong, and menacing.
The man staring back at him was the person that his father had wanted him to become.
Hell, the person in the mirror looked more like his father than he ever had in his life.
One part of him so badly wanted to embrace it, to accept that this was what he was meant to be. This was his calling. He was the name and the legacy.
But the other part of him wanted to run from it as far and as fast as he could.
To end the Kingsley empire and let it burn with the tarnished memory of his father.
And to think it used to be about family, but the family didn’t exist. Not how they had once understood it.
Luna was now a Vitali, his mother was somewhere in Europe, his father was dead, and he was the only one who could continue the name or end it.
And yet, his entire life, what he wanted was right there waiting for him to take, but he hesitated like a fucking coward. Like the unworthy bastard his father always knew he was.
He wasn’t that child; that controlled being unable to fight back. He was changing, becoming a different man. And that ended with the self-hesitation, the wondering of what he was made to do. He would follow his own path, he just didn’t know what the fuck that was yet.