Gian closed his laptop the second he heard familiar mumblings coming from down the hall. Cara sounded less annoyed than she had the night before. He took a phone call as he listened to the soft patter of feet down the hall, followed by the click of a closing door. The bathroom, likely.
By the time he was done with his call, Cara stood in the office doorway. She hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on; she still wore that frilly, delicate lace that she’d gone to bed in. And that was only the panties, not the bra. She had simply tossed his dress shirt on—unbuttoned—which did very fucking little to cover her breasts.
Never mind what it did for his cock.
Bathed in morning light from the wide office windows. Sleepy-eyed. Mussed hair. Peeks of her soft, smooth skin, from the valley of her tits all the way down to the lace of her panties, demanded his attention. Her lips had turned a faded, stained red from the lipstick she had been wearing the night before.
Gian was sure his maid was sick and tired of trying to clean red lipstick stains out of his white sheets.
Fuck.
He wished he cared.
Cara leaned in the doorway. “Morning.”
“You seem more pleasant today,” Gian said.
“I was pleasant last night.”
“After you yelled at me and then ignored me for hours.”
Gian had never imagined a time would come in his life when he found himself controlled by the ways of a woman. At least, he hadn’t expected that control to come because he loved her.
Cara had no idea of her control over him.
She probably thought Gian pulled the strings.
How wrong she was …
“I know you’re not happy about Chicago, Cara.”
“It … seems like a bit much,” Cara said. “Like an overreaction, maybe. I could go anywhere, but that’s where you think I should go.”
“Your brother is there. You have family to look after you until I think it’s safe to ask you back. It won’t be for long. It’s only a precaution, bella. Sending you to a safe house is one thing, but sending you out of the country is even better.”
“Safe.” She scoffed. “You do realize that the last time I was in Chicago, I buried Lea.”
“Yes, but—”
“Because someone killed her.”
Gian nodded, knowing this was one of Cara’s hot-button issues. “I’m aware, but shit is different down there now. Calmer, even. Your brother recently took over as the new boss. It might do you some good to settle a few things while you’re down there. And by settle, I mean stuff in your heart—the things that keep causing you pain. Your father died, you didn’t go to his funeral. Your mother killed herself not too long ago and you didn’t go back for that, either. And even if not for them, then for Lea. You miss her all the time. You say it enough, like you left her behind.”
Cara glanced away at that statement. “I hate Chicago.”
“You hate how it makes you feel, mon ange. That isn’t the same thing. Time to face that head-on, and bury it for good.”
“Easy for you to say.” She blew a stray curl out of her face. “I’m not going to put up more fight about Chicago.”
“No?”
“I tried that yesterday.”
Gian smirked. “And it didn’t work.”
“Seems not.”
“It won’t be for long, like I said.” Gian checked his watch. “And you have three hours before you have to be at the airport.”
“Breakfast, then? I can cook or we can order in.”
Gian took the sight of Cara in again, drinking in her show of skin, the curves of her hips, and her delicate lines. Every inch of her was a giant tease to him. A wonderland to explore, and to use to satisfy the darkest urges beating through his mind and body. Those damn urges only increased whenever she was nearby.
“They won’t serve what I’m interested in,” he said with a grin.
“Oh, my God. You are insatiable.”
Gian shrugged.
This wasn’t news.
“Insatiable would imply that I don’t give you a break. In case you forgot, you slept alone in my bed last night. Unfucked, Cara.”
Her cheeks pinked. “Yes, well—”
“By my choice, too,” Gian interjected quickly.
“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance for angry sex, considering the way you go on in bed all the time.”
He cocked a brow. “Angry sex is unhealthy. Like anything that’s unhealthy, it’s usually too enjoyable for its own good. Before you know it, you’re causing fights, just to fuck and get that feeling back. Not interested, bella mia. We have enough to argue about, without adding nonsense like that in, too. Sorry.”
Cara’s blue eyes twinkled with her surprise. “That was not a response I expected.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
Gian crooked a finger at Cara as he leaned back in his large office chair. She didn’t question his motives. She walked right over to his side with one of her sly smiles, anticipation burning brightly in her gaze.
Once she was close enough for him to reach out and grab her, Gian did just that. Cara sprawled into his lap, cradled in his arms. Her legs hung over the arm of the chair. The button-down shirt of his that she was wearing had spread open more, exposing the swell of her breasts.
Gian couldn’t help but run the tips of his fingers over the peaks of her already-taut nipples. Then, he gave them a pinch, making Cara gasp and arch her back higher, closer to his hands again for more.
Cara gave him a stern stare that only make him chuckle. “How do you live with yourself?”
“Like you,” he said, “I’ve learned to love it.”
“You’re terribly—”
“Cocky. I know.”
“You could at least let me say it.”
“You’re not saying anything that I don’t already know.”
“Smartass.”
“Yours, though,” Gian murmured through a grin.
She preened in that happy, pleased way of hers.
“You always say the right things.”
“I do, don’t I?” he asked.
“And then you ruin it just as fast,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Let me make up for it.”
Cara peered up at him through her thick lashes. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“Orgasms. Morning orgasms.”
“Well, then.”
“They make up for everything, Cara.”
“Yours certainly do,” she agreed.
“And you wonder why I have a fucking complex, amore.”
Cara shrugged. “More orgasms, less talking.”
“But you like it when I talk and fuck you.”
“Yes, but at the same time, Gian.”
Fair enough.
“Get those fucking legs open, so I can get to what’s mine, Cara,” he demanded low.
With a sweet little sigh, she did as he wanted, widening her legs over the arm of the chair. His gaze roamed over the shape of her hips, to the line of the panties keeping her pussy covered with a scrap of lace.
“I love it when you make it easy on me.”
Cara’s grin turned sinful. “Sometimes, you like to take it, too.”
He agreed, but his attention was elsewhere now.
He had a goal.
Get Cara off.
Do it again.
And then fuck her until his brain wasn’t such a mess.
Good plan, Gian told himself.
Hopefully, it would be enough to sedate him until he got his stubborn, sexy girl back, but he doubted it. Cara was an obsession for Gian. From the way she talked, to the way she walked. All her smiles, and when she grew quiet. How she felt under his hands and beneath his control. Her desires and fears.
Their what ifs.
All of it.
Every single bit.
Gian was so fucking obsessed.
“Will you be my good girl this morning?” He traced the shape of her lips with his fingertips. Cara kissed the digits before sucking the tips into her teasing mouth. “Can you be patient, or will you turn greedy again?”
Cara released his fingers from between her lips to say, “I thought you liked your greedy slut, Gian?”
He grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her head and pulled her up for a bruising kiss. He enjoyed when she melted into the demands of his kiss, but he liked it even better when she fought for control.
Even if she always lost.
Gian pulled away, letting Cara fall back into his lap. “You know I do, but I like it when you listen and behave, too.”
“I can listen—I will.”
“And?”
“And I’ll be your good girl, Gian.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Cara licked her lips, squirming under the feel of his hand slipping beneath her panties. Gian’s fingers skimmed over the small, trimmed patch of soft hair to get to the heaven between Cara’s legs. Her thighs opened wider as he found her hot little clit—something else that was damn greedy, when it came to her body. He wanted her cunt wet, tight, and needy when he filled it with his cock, so he worked her clit until she shuddered and moaned her way through her first release.
All the while, she stayed as still as possible on his lap, never demanding more, and simply taking what he offered. He’d stroked her hair while he teased her clit, and watched the blues of her eyes deepen in color when the bliss raged.
Cara let out a slow stream of air as she calmed in his lap. “I’d demand you give me another, but …”
“But?”
“Good girls don’t demand anything, do they?”
Gian smirked. “No, they say please and thank you, and patiently wait for more.”
“This is a lot of work, Gian.”
“I always reward you.”
“Thank you.”
“Good. Now …” As he’d spoken, he’d been running his fingers with firm strokes over the entrance of her cunt, feeling the heat and juices of her arousal smearing to his digits. “I want you to take off my tie.”
Cara radiated curiosity and anticipation as she reached for his throat with careful hands. She loosened and then pulled his tie free. Gian worked her pussy with two fingers, pumping deep and curling into her G-spot with every thrust. He could feel the shake in her legs, hear the way her breath caught, and he knew then that her second orgasm was coming on fast. Cara continued her task until the tie was limp in her hands.
Pleased that she had focused on his demand instead of getting off first, he sped up the rhythm of his fingers until she was crying out with another orgasm.
Cara’s back lifted in a beautiful arch. “Oh, my God, Gian.” His tie had gotten twisted in her clenching hands. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but tell me again.”
“I love you, Gian.”
Gian pulled Cara into a proper sitting position on his lap. He gave her a kiss—softer and slower than before. “Of course, you love me like this.”
“And when you’re not like this, too,” she promised.
He wondered how long that would last, though.
“Your tie,” Cara said softly, offering the item between them like a gift.
“Thank you.” The silk slid into his hand, and he shot Cara one of his wicked grins. “Don’t panic too much when I take away your sight and make you feel for a bit.”
Cara tapped his cheek gently with a shaky hand. “I never panic with you.”
Gian took that as her permission.
She barely moved an inch as he blindfolded her with the tie, although her hands gripped tighter around his forearms. He unwound her fingers from his body, and placed them in her lap.
“Be good,” he said in her ear.
Gian took a moment to admire Cara like she was—blindfolded, sitting pretty in his lap, and so trusting.
“Hold still,” he warned, when Cara squirmed.
He could see her questions getting ready to fall from her lips, but he didn’t give her the chance to ask them. Quickly, he lifted them both from the chair, and sat Cara on the edge of his desk. He moved whatever items out of the way that he didn’t want knocked over or broken because of what was coming next.
“Tell me how you feel,” Gian said as he pulled his own shirt off and dropped his slacks.
“Hot,” Cara answered instantly.
“What else?”
He pulled the length of his cock from the confines of his boxer-briefs, and fisted his shaft with firm strokes from the base to the tip. His heartbeat pulsed against his palm.
“Greedy,” Cara admitted with a pretty pout.
Gian kissed her lips for that admission. “Good, that’s how I wanted you, mon ange. My greedy, good girl.” He placed her palms to his chest. “Hands on me—it’s time to feel for a while. Don’t hold back, Cara. I want your cunt squeezing my dick until I can’t breathe, and your screams need to be loud enough that I will hear them tomorrow. Understand?”
She nodded, her wild red curls bobbing along with the motion.
“Perfetto.”
And he didn’t just mean her compliance.
“You might hear the camera on my phone,” he said, wanting her to know so that she could refuse. She never did.
“Please fuck me, now.”
“Definitely greedy.”
“Very.”
He dragged his hands over her curves, taking in each soft breath, shiver, and goosebumps that came after his touch. Her responsiveness was his drug. The way she let him love her, use her, fuck her, was addicting. She barely moved an inch—only lifted a little—as he dragged her panties down and let them fall to the floor.
“Just feel,” he reminded her as he slid the head of his cock through her sex. Her arousal soaked the tip when he flexed forward enough to open her up and let her know that he was a moment away from filling her full. “Don’t you fucking move, now.”
Cara bit her bottom lip hard. “But—”
“Cara.”
She quieted instantly.
Gian left only the head of his cock seated inside the tight heat of Cara’s cunt, feeling her sex contracting around him over and over. He reached for his phone. He caught the video of his dick sliding all the way in, the way her thighs widened and her body let him stretch her full. He got the sight of his cock pulling back out, soaked with her cum, and how his shaft throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He lifted the phone enough to catch his thumb sliding over Cara’s plump lips and then his hand curving around her throat.
“Please,” she whispered.
That was all he could take before he tossed the fucking phone to the side, his control gone again. He palmed Cara’s ass roughly as he slammed his cock back into her cunt again. There was nothing quite like the contractions of her pussy, flexing around his length, while her fingernails scored hot lines across his chest, and her sweet sounds echoed in his office. He couldn’t seem to fuck her fast enough—or hard enough—to satisfy the need beating in his chest. He never could, because as soon as he was done, he knew he would only want more.
Cara’s heels dug into his lower back as he pushed her down on the desk, slammed his mouth against hers, and fucked them into a mindless oblivion. Her cunt was so tight that she felt like a hot glove made just for him.
It was only after she had come again, that he pulled his tie from her eyes, and let the pressure building in his spine take over. Her body looked best, spent and sweaty on his desk, his cum spattered up her stomach, and his cock pulsing against her inner thigh.
Then again, she always looked damn good.
It was only hours later, when Gian walked Cara to the waiting car outside of his penthouse, that he finally allowed himself to think of something other than her. He thought about the coming days.
“Message me when you land, Cara.”
She kissed his cheek with a smile. “Yes, Gian.”
“I’m serious.”
“I will.”
“I will fly down to Chicago to spank your ass, if you don’t.”
She grinned. “Don’t tempt me now.”
Always testing him.
Gian gave Cara a quick kiss and helped her into the waiting car. “It’s going to be a busy week, so if I don’t pick up your calls, try not to worry. It’s just business.”
“Got it. I love you.”
“Ti amo, Cara.”
Closing the car door was the last thing Gian wanted to do, but he did it. He watched the vehicle pull out onto the street. It was only when he couldn’t see the car anymore, that he turned and headed back for his building.
At the front door, Chris waited. The enforcer said nothing as he followed Gian inside. Once they were in the elevator, Chris turned to him, his expression blank.
“Are you ready for what comes next, boss?”
Gian readjusted his tie. “For duty, always. For the rest … we’ll see.”
The rest would have to come first.
And then duty would be waiting, too.
Gian answered the buzzing phone, and continued stirring his stir-fry. “Ciao, bonjour.”
“Constantino is on his way up, boss.”
“Thank you, Chris.”
“Call me if you need me, or when it’s done.”
Gian agreed, hung up, and went back to cooking his food. Usually, he was too busy to cook, but when he found the time, it was a relaxing process. God knew that he needed to be relaxed today.
Gian lowered the heat on the stove, covered the food, and headed for the elevator entrance of the penthouse when he heard the familiar ding signaling a visitor was headed up. He tossed a dishcloth over his shoulder, using the ends to wipe his hands off as he went to greet Constantino.
His most trusted friend.
Or … that’s what Gian had once believed. He now knew that to Constantino—no matter the man’s intentions—those words meant nothing. All it had taken was a box, a few careful conversations, and a series of sad realizations, for Gian to understand those words also meant nothing to him as well.
Affection would never cloud his judgement again.
Not after today.
He was not willing to play the blind fool to any man, even if it was to his benefit.
Constantino was half way down the entrance hallway when Gian met up with him. The man wore a big smile, and clapped Gian on the shoulder in greeting as he jokingly looked him over.
It had taken Gian making a phone call to Constantino that included him saying he had overreacted, apologizing for hitting his friend, and promising it was all water under the bridge, to get the man at the penthouse. But that was all it’d taken, because like Gian in the past, Constantino was predictable where his best friend was concerned, and he didn’t want to fight or be on bad terms with Gian.
Gian had only needed to mention Edmond as well, and Constantino was hooked, line and sinker.
It was stupid of him to be, yes.
That was what blind affection did to a man.
“Jeans, shirt, no shoes, and a dish towel. Are you playing homemaker today, or what, man?”
Gian laughed, and headed back toward the kitchen while Constantino followed behind. “Taking a break today, that’s all.”
Constantino sniffed the air. “And cooking, apparently.”
“Someone needs to feed me.”
“So hire someone.”
“It clears my head.” Gian gestured at the many chairs around the table. “Take a seat and we’ll chat.”
Constantino took a seat that faced the kitchen, allowing Gian the chance to watch the man as he finished his stir-fry. He would never turn his back on this man again.
The sad thing was, he hadn’t even needed to turn his back the first time. Constantino had simply stabbed Gian in the chest when he wasn’t looking. And when Gian did finally notice and asked what happened? Constantino pointed the finger at someone else.
Like any good coward would do.
“Where’s the girl?” Constantino asked.
“She has a name. You know it.” Gian opened the pan and stirred the contents up. “Cara—use her name.”
“Are you still pissed about what I said at the restaurant? I apologized for that, and I only spoke the truth. Like you should be doing, man.”
He had apologized when Gian called. Although, it had taken some careful prompting on Gian’s part to make it seem as though he felt he overreacted that night.
“It’s the point of the matter, Constantino.”
“Fine. Cara. Where is Cara? The other night when you called, you didn’t want me coming over because she was here.”
Gian checked the clock. “She’s probably watching that show she likes. It would be on at this time in Chicago.”
Constantino perked. “Chicago?”
“Flew in yesterday.”
“She did that herself?”
Gian chose not to answer. He certainly wasn’t about to say that he had sent Cara away, and raise Constantino’s suspicions. He wanted the man thinking that nothing was wrong, like water under the bridge.
Much like the idiot had fooled him.
“That’s where she is, anyway,” Gian said, pulling the pan from the stove. “I don’t know when she’ll be back.”
That wasn’t entirely a lie, either.
Gian didn’t know when he would send for Cara. After he had finished business, the smoke had cleared, and it was safe. A week, maybe two. He couldn’t let his need to have Cara close cloud his judgement about what was best.
“Better she go,” Constantino said.
Gian pulled plates from the cupboard. “Pardon?”
“Cara. It’s better she left. She fucks with the way you do things—how you see shit—but you don’t seem to notice.”
Gian refused to let Constantino push on that nerve. “Maybe she does.”
“You know she does.”
“Hungry?”
“I could eat,” Constantino said.
Gian prepped two plates of food, keeping an eye on the other man at the same time. Constantino seemed entirely unbothered and calm, sitting there, as though he didn’t have a thing to worry about.
“I suppose you don’t, huh?” Gian asked as he delivered the plate of food.
Gian then took a seat directly across from his old friend.
“Don’t what, man?”
“Worry,” Gian clarified.
Constantino shrugged, shoving a bite of food into his mouth. “It’s a waste of time to worry.”
“That, or you feel … privileged. Safe in your spot because of me.”
Constantino’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
Gian shook his head. “Should there be?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then, no.”
“All right.” Constantino went back to his food as though nothing was wrong. Just as Gian expected he would.
“Have you ever heard of blind affection?”
“When a person lets their personal feelings get in the way of what should be obvious?” Constantino asked.
“Exactly that.”
“I could see why some people might struggle with it.”
“Me, too,” Gian agreed.
“So, you said when you called that you’re finally ready to finish this out with the boss, then?”
“And more.” Gian smirked. “Never call Edmond the boss in my presence again.”
Constantino offered an apologetic smile. “My bad.”
The man didn’t seem to notice that Gian had yet to touch his own plate of food.
“But, that was what you said,” Constantino pressed.
“And more,” Gian echoed. “Do you want a beer?”
“Sure.”
Gian left the table, and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He sat one down at his spot before moving around the table to hand Constantino’s bottle over, but he didn’t move to return to his seat again.
“I’m not the only one between us that suffers from blind affection,” Gian said quietly. “Because if you didn’t suffer from it, too, you would have known better than to ever trust me after you betrayed me. All lies come out eventually.”
Constantino’s head snapped up, his wide—understanding—eyes flying to Gian. It was already too late. Gian hadn’t removed the dishtowel from his shoulder until then, and he’d quickly twisted it into a rope of sorts. He had the rope wrapped around his friend’s throat before Constantino could even attempt to fight back.
Gian pulled the makeshift rope tight, his emotions bleeding away as a blissful numbness took its place. Constantino fought back against the hold, clawing at Gian’s arms and hands, trying to topple over his chair, and even kicking at the table. The plates and bottles jumped with every hit and kick. Gian still held strong.
“I’m not sure if you killed my grandfather for yourself, or because you knew what would happen after his death. I don’t know if you meant to put yourself in a higher position because of me, but you clearly intended to use me for something.”
Constantino’s struggle continued, but Gian paid it no mind. His fighting would end forever soon enough.
“I put it together after Edmond sent me a box with info about the bomb set on my car and who put it there—you. You were stupid enough to try to play his side, too, just in case you needed to. I saw the pictures of you heading to Edmond’s place, going in and out on all days of the week, when you were trying to get me to act against him. That was your mistake. He’s a snake, too, like you. And if he thought I might get rid of a problem with you, then he was willing to take the risk of telling me.”
Gian sighed. “And I thought, why. Why would you do that to me, and what else would you do? What else had you done? You knew—despite how fucking ignorant you’ve been lately—that I would never look to you, Constantino, because you were my friend. And I trusted you. You took advantage of an already-volatile situation, and pushed us all over the edge, because you knew that no matter what, I would keep my friend on top.”
He pulled the rope tighter still, feeling the man’s fight finally begin to leave. “You taught me a lesson that Corrado never did. A lesson he couldn’t teach me. You have to be ready to kill absolutely anyone that stands at your side, because no one can be trusted.”
Gian still didn’t feel anything when Constantino’s body finally fell limp. He undid the rope, let the corpse fall forward, and then he covered the man’s head with the unraveled dish towel.
“Fuck you for being the one to teach me that lesson.”
He returned to his seat, popped open his beer, and ate his food.
Life went on.
It always did.
“Last chance to back out,” Chris said as Gian handed his gun over.
Outside the restaurant, the street was quiet. As though it—and the shops lining the streets—knew what was about to happen, and that it was better to be out of sight, safely hidden away.
“Why would I back out?” Gian asked.
The enforcer made a show of taking Gian’s jacket off, showing to whoever was watching inside the restaurant that he had no hidden weapons to bring to the meeting.
Chris handed Gian’s jacket back. “I didn’t think you would, I simply said the option is there.”
“Would you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Legacy,” Chris said frankly. “The respect of it all.”
“Some might think that this is the ultimate disrespect,” Gian pointed out.
“Those people will never and could never make the choice you are making today.”
And that, at the end of it all, was exactly why Gian was doing what he was doing.
“Some men are made for this,” Chris added, “and some aren’t. Which one are you?”
“I’m tired of my ability being questioned.”
“Then good luck, boss. I will be waiting out here when it’s over.”
Gian gave the man a nod. “Don’t miss, Chris.”
“I never do.”
Gian waited as the enforcer crossed the street, and jumped into his vehicle. Then, he turned and entered the restaurant. This was the most dangerous part, he knew. Simply entering the place with no backup, no protection. It was a hostile environment, and he could easily become a target.
Inside, Gian was surprised to find the place mostly devoid of people. No patrons sat at tables, and no employees served the few men sitting at tables.
“Gian.” Edmond stood from his seat at a center table, facing the windows. Lucky. “I’m pleased to see you show up today.”
Gian crossed the space, ignoring the looks of the men waiting to see what he would do. Only a couple were men that Edmond had asked to come along, others were ones Gian told to be there because of the boss’s request. Apparently, Edmond thought having a few men witness their meeting would be better than a larger group.
Let word travel, Edmond had said.
Standing toe to toe with the man, Gian finally spoke. “I took care of the problem on my end, the one you let me know about.”
Edmond nodded, seeming pleased. “And come to your senses at the same time about the rest of this fighting and nonsense, I assume?”
No, not really.
He had decided enough was enough, though.
“Grudges tend to kill a lot of people in this business,” Gian said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I need to learn to let bygones be bygones.”
“Good, good.”
Then, Edmond held out his hand, the one with a ring that was all too familiar to Gian. It had belonged to his grandfather for years, and while Corrado should have been buried with it, someone had removed it from his home before it could be collected for the funeral home. Constantino might have been the one to pull the trigger where Corrado’s death was concerned, but Edmond had not been an honorable man in his intentions after the fact.
Gian could never, and would never, forget that.
He would not forget a shooting intended to keep him in line that nearly killed Cara, either.
Things like those were unforgiveable.
The bygones.
“Well?” Edmond asked, still holding his hand out for Gian to take. “Are we going to settle this like proper made men and move on as your grandfather would have wanted us to do, Gian?”
The man intended for Gian to bend down, and kiss his ring. Had it been his grandfather, Gian would have done it without question. Because it was Edmond, the significance made him hesitate.
Still, he bent down, grabbing Edmond’s hand and bringing it close to his mouth. Gian didn’t kiss the ring, though, he simply held it there for a moment.
“You have no idea what Corrado would have wanted,” Gian murmured low enough for only Edmond to hear. “But I certainly do.”
Gian dropped Edmond’s hand, without having kissed the ring, as glass shattered. He straightened to his full height, getting the brief chance to stare Edmond in the eyes for only a second before the man’s body began to sway.
A perfect sniper shot had hit Edmond square between his eyes. Blood trickled down from the wound. Death already stared back from his eyes.
This was appropriate, considering …
Gian let the body fall as one of the men inside the restaurant shouted, a panicked realization starting to take over about what had just happened. He paid the men no mind as he bent down and removed his grandfather’s ring from Edmond’s slack, lifeless hand, only to slide it down his own finger.
Standing once more, Gian turned to face the men with a smile. Shocked faces stared back at him, unmoving and frozen in time.
Chris was one hell of a shot.
Word would certainly be traveling now.
“I’ll answer to Don or Boss, only, and anything else will cost you a body part of your choice,” Gian said quietly. “Now, I need someone to move this body.”