Suo Angelo

eighteen

MEANWHILE, Giovanni was seated on a jet headed straight for his villa in Sicily, where he would oversee his mob in their native country.  While he had been meeting with Genevieve, he had been completely tuned out, only rousing from his stupor by the obnoxious ringing of his phone.  He vaguely remembered her telling him something, but he was too busy admiring her and worrying about work to really pay attention. 

     Once he saw it was his long time friend, Vladimir, calling, he knew it was serious.  The two hardly ever interacted with one another, and when they did, it was only about important matters.  This time, for instance, was one of those times.

     An ally gang that resides in Italy had taken out one of Vlad's men and had declared themselves against both Vlad and Giovanni's crime syndicates.  Giovanni was obviously enraged by the news, for he had just recently sent a shipment of drugs to the petty gang to deal and they still hadn't paid for it.  Needless to say, Giovanni was heading to Sicily with a thirst for blood. 

     He sat in the jet, practically fuming on the inside but deadly calm on the outside.  Antonio sat across from him with a blank face as he twiddled his thumbs and stared outside the window. They grew closer and closer to Sicily, and with that knowledge, Giovanni's body began tensing from the anger he felt towards the situation at hand.

"How's Genevieve?" Antonio stared at his boss, watching the man break from his thoughts momentarily for a flickering smile to light up his face, only to become shadowed by anger and turned stoic.

"I don't want to talk about her right now. We've got important matters to discuss." Giovanni ignored Antonio's probing stare and turned to look outside the window. This flight had taken too long, and he hoped that Vladimir wouldn't be too distraught by the time he arrived. Giovanni turned back towards the silent Antonio and sighed, feeling the burdens heave on his shoulders. "Why are you asking?"

He shrugged. "You always calm down at the thought of her, so I figured this time was better than any for you to get a grip of yourself before you went too far off the edge."

Giovanni rolled his eyes and checked his watch. "A hour or so more to go."

Antonio narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Why are you trying to avoid this conversation? I thought you loved that girl or something."

"Or something," Giovanni muttered under his breath before schooling his expression. "I don't love her, I feel deeply for her, but it's not love. Not yet, at least." He lifted his right leg and rested his ankle on his left knee. "None of this pertains to you anyways, and is consequently none of your business."

"I just thought—"

Giovanni shot up from his seat and lifted Antonio by the collar of his dress shirt. "You thought wrong! Do not bring her up when we are at work. She stays out of this life, and she stays out of our conversations. I can't keep her safe if you gab on about her with the chance of being overheard." He released the shocked man.

"Did something happen? Weren't you meeting with her when Vlad called you?"

Giovanni sent a sharp glare toward Antonio. "Inquisitive today, aren't you." He stopped for a moment, his mind flickering over their meeting, and he pondered for a moment. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to remember what she had said to him. "I'm not sure; one moment I was just staring at her, and the next I got the call and had to book it."

     "Did she say anything." Antonio leaned closer, on the edge of his seat for this information.

     Giovanni's eyebrows furrowed and his lips dipped down in a grimace.  "I think so, but I didn't catch it; I was too busy staring at her and thinking about all the work waiting for me at home—work that was worth it to spend time with her."