.69. Kill me

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I burned so long so quiet you must have wondered if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do.

- Annelyse Gelman

. . .

Giovanni

I threw the man on the ground and motioned the driver to throw him in the trunk. Leyla didn't need extra protection if Fabiano and I were with her but I needed some people to keep the surroundings clean.

Hence why I had five people follow us.

One of the guards slammed the trunk shut. The man begged for help in Italian. I ignored him.

Just when I was about to return, my phone buzzed.

It was Dante.

"What do you need?" I asked in Italian.

"I need to talk to Angelo. Find out more people he was working with at Venice."

"He's at the mansion. Don't kill him."

"Why the fuck?"

I told him about the deal.

"When we're you going to tell me? When she came back?"

"I forgot."

I could feel his anger. "She is my sister, too."

"Aren't you the one who handed her to the traffickers?"

He was silent. "I didn't know."

"Yes, but it still fucking happened."

He was silent again. It pissed me the fuck off. I didn't know what happened to him under our parents exactly. Hell, I had not spoken to him till we were in a cell together with the Creeds. He was always kept away from us by our batshit crazy parents who wanted him to be the capo.

He was a good capo. Our parents had gotten that right.

"Say something."

"What the fuck do you want me to say? She's my blood too. You had the chance to kill me, you fucking didn't. Now deal with me being your brother and her brother or fucking kill me with the knife I gave you."

I looked down at my knife.

Kill me, he had said giving me this knife when we had established ourselves in Rome after escaping from Igor. Kill me.

My eyes lingered on the edge of the knife. I had pressed it against his neck, remembering every time he had made me and Fabiano bleed. Remembering every time he watched father and mother torture us like fucking sadists.

And then I had remembered how his hands had shaken when he hurt us. How he was constantly covered in bandages and wincing when he thought no one was watching. I remembered the tears in my eyes and how every time Igor had come into our cell to torture us, he had stepped in front of Fabiano and me, saying that he deserved it.

I had made a cut. I won't kill you, I had said because I couldn't. He was blood.

"I should have told you. Get off my back now and do something productive?"

"Devote myself to a little American and constantly endanger her life?"

"Go to hell, Dante."

. . .

As much as I wanted to go inside and watch Leyla get tattooed, my mind was too loud for me to think straight.

I sat in the limousine, swirling whiskey in my glass.

Trusting Testa to bring Carla unharmed was a gamble. He had thought he could control us but I had dealt with assholes like him too many times. One good move and they thought they had won the game.

That's when you are most vulnerable. That's when you are stupid - when you think you've won.

He should have had his eyes on his father. He was young, he'd learn or die.

My phone buzzed with a message. I could barely see the message through the blur of my eyes.

Fabian - where are you?

I ignored his message and set my head against the seat, looking up at the dark ceiling. "Marco."

"Yes, boss?" The driver said.

"Take me there."

. . .

I was sat down on the ground of the little park. It was tiny and at the very edge of our property. On the right were some swings. I used to love them when I was younger.

The grass was slightly wet. It was soft under my hands. I dug my knife into the ground, sighing as I closed my eyes.

"This is not safe," I could hear Miss Summers saying. "Smart, Giovani. You have to be smart."

She had helped us get back to Rome. She had helped us with many things. Then she just died.

Testa was a fool if he thought he wouldn't die the most painful death possible for what he did to Miss Summers and my Leyla.

It had been hours since came here.

There was no mistaking the soft body which sat down beside me, her sweet smell filling my sense. Who needed fucking drugs when I could have her?

"Giovanni?"

I turned my head to look at her. She was a blur. I could see something shiny on her neck. "I'm drunk, Leyla. You should go to bed."

"You don't want to sleep?"

"I can sleep here."

She looked around nervously at the woods. I wrapped an arm around her. "There's no one in the woods who can hurt you as long as you are with me."

She sighed. "I...how drunk are you?"

"Tipsy, love. I can't drink more than that when I have a pretty someone to take care of." I kissed her cheek. "What were you saying?"

. . .

Filler.

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