“Gian.”
He almost missed the call of his name by the familiar voice, as he started his ascent of the church steps. It was unusual for his closest enforcer—Chris—to call him by his name, as it was usually “boss” only to the man, but Gian understood why the sudden change.
Edmond clapped Gian on the shoulder as he continued climbing the church steps to a waiting Mass. When the boss was around, Gian could not be “boss” to his own men, as anyone in a higher position than him took precedence.
It hadn’t much mattered with his grandfather, but Edmond was not Corrado.
That was obvious to everyone.
“I messaged you this morning,” Gian said, turning to face the enforcer standing on the bottom step. “It’s not like you to be late, Chris.”
The barrel-chested man shrugged his wide shoulders. “Sundays are my off day—that’s what you always say, anyway. No business on Sundays. I put the phone away.”
“All right, I’ll take that.”
Only because it was true.
“You needed me for something?” Chris asked.
Gian ignored the passing people—many he recognized—as he reached for the velvet case inside his jacket pocket. Pulling the item out, he rested it on his palm. It was as long as his hand, and about as wide. “I need you to run this across town for me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I don’t make you run errands very fucking often, so don’t start complaining now.”
Chris held his hands up, a silent apology. “No worries. Where’s it going to?”
Gian didn’t answer right away, instead, opening the velvet case to check the item inside for a fifth time since he had picked it up earlier in the week. He’d wanted to give it to Cara himself. He hadn’t seen her since the weekend before, but it looked like it was going to be another couple of days before he could drag himself away from the nonsense that had become his life. He figured the gift would be a nice way to tell her to look forward to a visit, and that he hadn’t forgotten about her.
In a way …
Inside the case, a black lace, Victorian-styled choker rested on crushed velvet. A small, oval diamond hung from the middle, giving it a bit of regal beauty to go along with the classic. He’d found the item by chance, when he had gone into his jeweller’s to pick up one of his Rolexes that needed to be fixed.
There was something about the choker—and the way he thought it might look on a delicate throat—that made him purchase the item without even hesitating.
“A woman, then,” Chris assumed as he glanced down at the choker.
Gian quickly snapped the case shut. “A woman.”
“You don’t usually give gifts to women.”
He didn’t.
It wasn’t appropriate, really.
“She’s worth the step out from my usual,” Gian replied vaguely. He handed the case over, and rattled off Cara’s address. “Redhead, tall, beautiful. You won’t miss her, and you might even recognize her. You’re not to leave until this is in her hands, and you’re not to allow her to refuse it. Understood?”
Chris nodded. “Got it.”
“Tell her to text me if she wants someone to argue with about it,” Gian added with a chuckle.
He’d plugged his number into Cara’s phone the weekend before, and occasionally sent her messages throughout the week, but no actual phone call. He wondered how she would react to the gift, but he would have to settle with the aftermath.
“Go,” Gian ordered, pointing in the direction Chris had come.
“Later, boss.”
Gian didn’t correct Chris’s slip that time, but only because the steps had mostly cleared of people. No one was close enough to hear the man’s casual use of a title that technically didn’t belong to Gian.
Not wanting to be late for Mass, Gian headed inside the church, taking the steps two at a time. He’d missed it last weekend, and two in a row would never be overlooked by his devout Catholic mother.
Not to mention, Gian wanted to be seen.
Especially by the men of la famiglia.
With so many younger Capos and foot soldiers upset by the change in power—a change that Edmond had made without their input—Gian wanted to bring some sense of peace. Before any fighting within the ranks could begin, he wanted to stop it. He hoped, though he didn’t know how well it would work, that his presence alongside the new boss might keep those men closer to his own age under control of sorts.
Even if Gian didn’t entirely trust the new boss.
Gian found his usual seat in the third pew from the front of the church. He rested into the pew beside his younger brother. Domenic—though Dom to his family and friends—passed Gian a curious look.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re having Chris run gifts around for you now?”
Gian stiffened a bit in the pew. “Saw that, did you?”
“A few people did. You know, they’re talking too, right? You disappeared last weekend, but someone knew where you went, and didn’t keep it quiet. Add the gift thing to it, and the gossip will fly, Gian. You’re not the kind to stir the pot. So, Cara Rossi, is it?”
Fuck nosy people.
And those that couldn’t keep their mouths shut.
“Mind your business,” Gian told his brother.
Dom rolled his eyes upward. “Not on this, man.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, so leave it. What I do privately is my own concern, and not for you or anyone else to worry about.”
“But you took her away for a weekend.”
“So?”
“And you bought her a gift—I saw it, too, it’s not a little trinket, Gian,” his brother added quieter.
“Again, so?” Gian asked, his irritation rising.
“According to Dad, it’s one thing for you to hook-up with somebody and go your way. It’s quite another for you to be … getting cozy. It makes a statement that you might not want, or the family, if you get what I mean.”
“And Dad should mind his own business, too,” Gian said.
“Ma—”
“You know, out of everyone, I bet she’ll be the least likely to open her mouth and bitch about all of this. And do you know why? Because she knows I haven’t been happy on that side of my life in a long fucking time. You know that, too, Dom.”
Dom met Gian’s gaze, nodding once. “Yeah, I do know.”
“Then fuck off about it.”
“I don’t give a shit how it makes us look, as far as that goes,” Dom said, “but I worry about you, man. And how it might make a target out of you, given some of the rumblings and the recent changes.”
With that statement made, Dom nodded toward the new boss, an aisle over and two pews ahead of theirs. As he looked at the boss, Gian wondered how many eyes were watching him and his brother in that moment.
“Might he make a show out of you, to control those who favor you?” Dom asked.
“He’s got bigger worries,” Gian replied, “like keeping his older sheep happy and compliant. He’s not even looking at the younger men right now.”
Dom scoffed. “All he’s done is piss off a lot of made men.”
Yeah, that too.
Still …
“Don’t worry about me, or this, or my business, all right?”
Dom shrugged. “You say that like it’s easy, Gian. Grandpapa is dead—nobody’s looking out for you like he would have done, so I’m trying to. That’s all.”
“You’re not a made man yet, Dom. There isn’t a whole lot of looking out you can do at the moment.”
“I do what I can.”
That, too, was true.
Gian appreciated it.
But still … “Stop talking about all of this in church. No business on Sundays, Dom. It’s a rule.”
“But—”
“You’ll never get your button until you learn to listen more than you talk.”
Dom finally shut up.
Gian was grateful for that, too.
I got your gift, read the text message.
Gian smiled, typing back, Oh? Did you like it?
He knew what her answer would be—yes, Cara liked the choker. It wasn’t the choker itself that she probably struggled with, but the idea of accepting a gift from him. After all, it had been a whole day since Chris delivered the choker, and Gian got nothing but radio silence in return. He hadn’t been particularly surprised about that, either.
When Cara didn’t immediately reply, Gian hit dial on his phone’s screen, and put it up to his ear as he headed into the restaurant. A business he owned, liked to use as an office of sorts, and had a meeting at later with Constantino and the asshole, Stephan.
They wanted to talk about what had happened with Edmond.
Gian wanted to placate the younger Capos for a bit.
“I was replying,” Cara said as soon as she picked up Gian’s call.
“You were taking too long. Probably overthinking. As I suspect you’ve been doing for the last day, bella. It’s a necklace, one that suits your style, and I wanted to see you wear it, nothing more.”
“Gian.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re being …”
“What, charming, again?” he suggested.
Cara sighed. “I’m agreeable to casual here with you—”
Yes, because apparently casual did not mean dating to Cara Rossi.
Gian didn’t give a shit.
“And that means if I want to buy you something, I can and will. You should expect it,” Gian interrupted before Cara could say more.
He swore she muttered, “You’re fucking impossible.”
“Drop the casual bit, and you’ll see how impossible I can get,” Gian urged with a smirk.
“That doesn’t exactly make me want to jump in with both feet, Gian.”
“Liar. You know it does.”
Cara didn’t reply.
Gian didn’t need her to.
She’d already told him once …
You make it hard to say no.
“I do like the choker … a lot,” Cara finally said, softly.
“Send me a picture with it on, show me.”
“You’re serious?”
“Would you like to see some of the pictures I already have of you, Cara?”
He didn’t even need to see her face to know it was red, like her hair.
Gian laughed darkly, weaving through the restaurant and ignoring the patrons as he headed to his back office. “They’re beautiful, by the way.”
Cara made a noise under her breath. “Pretty sure that was videos.”
“I took some stills of them. I have an app.”
“Oh, my God. I have an app, he says. Like it’s not a big fucking deal or something.”
“Send me a picture,” he demanded again. “Show me how much you like it, sweetheart.”
Gian said a quick goodbye, as he had to get some work done before the guys showed up for dinner and the meet. He hated doing it to Cara, as he didn’t get to talk to her much as it were, but he didn’t have a choice.
To make up for it, as soon as he hung up the phone, he scrolled through the gallery images and videos. He hadn’t lied—the video he had took, and the subsequent stills, were beautiful. Hot, sexy, and sin.
Pure fucking sin.
Porn, at the very least to some.
Art, to him.
He’d gotten a shot of his fingers buried deep into her pussy while she was on her knees, her sex pink and wet, her arousal smeared across his hand. Another of his cock stretching her open, and a quick peek at the handprint he’d left on her thigh. Then, later in the day, he’d pulled the phone out again to catch the way his cum looked, painted down Cara’s toned stomach in white, ropey streams.
Gian was terribly careful with his phone. No one touched it but him, and not one single person knew his passcodes to get inside. He wouldn’t share the images or videos with a soul, because that wasn’t why he’d taken them.
He took them for him.
Because it made him hot and it got him off.
Because he liked reliving those moments.
Because his memory didn’t do Cara Rossi any sort of justice.
He shot off a couple of the images, and one of the videos he’d shortened to a few seconds. All had been changed to a black and white, and he’d stripped the sound from the short clip, too.
He really liked that app.
Not a minute later, his phone buzzed on the desk as he were going over orders for the restaurant. Gian picked it up, gave the message a look, and laughed hard.
Are those even me?!
Every single one of them, he typed back.
He’d cropped some of the images, zoomed in to keep Cara’s body and face from being entirely identifiable. But he wanted her to see what he saw, too.
Beauty.
Sex.
Lust.
The sweetest temptation that had ever crossed his path.
She would certainly be the cause of his eventual unraveling.
Gian didn’t think he would mind.
That’s porn, Gian, Cara’s next message said.
Beautiful porn, he corrected. Then, he sent another right after. I can do it again, oui?
Cara’s reply had him grinning. Hell yes.
He stuffed his phone away, and went back to work.
His mind was definitely not on the orders, though.
“They don’t see it like you’re just doing what you’re supposed to do, though, Gian,” Constantino argued. “The younger Capos—guys like us—see it like you’re standing on Edmond’s side of things, here. That you approve of what he did and how he did it.”
Gian’s jaw clenched, his one and only show of irritation at his best friend’s statement. “You, of all people, know I don’t approve. But what exactly could I do? I was put in a position where I couldn’t do or say anything. He called the vote without telling me that’s what it was, and he made the calls on who would be there for it. There’s nothing I can do now.”
“Not saying anything now certainly isn’t helping your fucking case, either.”
“Don’t forget, it’s my grandfather’s legacy here, too. And I have to consider—”
“Your last name won’t mean shit, with Edmond as the current boss,” Constantino cut in fast.
Stephan nodded his agreement. “Everybody—especially the younger guys—knew it was going to be you next in that seat, Gian. It’s what Corrado was working towards for years, slowly getting everybody ready for a change. He’d sped it up a bit recently, because obviously, there were some issues between the generational lines, and he probably thought putting you in the seat would help smooth that over.”
“Corrado didn’t talk about those things with me.”
“He didn’t have to,” Constantino pointed out quietly. “It was expected. Edmond took advantage of a situation you weren’t ready for and it makes you look weak as shit.”
Gian bristled at that comment. “Say that again, cafone.”
Constantino scowled. “I’m only saying it now for your benefit.”
“You weren’t ready for it because of Corrado’s death,” Stephan jumped in again. “Because someone—probably fucking Edmond—put a bullet between his eyes, or ordered it done.”
“We don’t know that he did it,” Gian said quietly.
But he certainly had reason to suspect the new boss.
Every goddamn reason.
“And they were old friends,” Gian added. “He’s given me reason to think it was him, but that’s circumstance, and nothing more. It’s not likely that he did kill my grandfather.”
Gian absolutely planned on finding out, though.
God save Edmond’s soul.
“Friendships mean shit in Cosa Nostra,” Stephan muttered. “Not when power is right there in front of you, ready for the taking.”
Gian passed Constantino a look, not ready to agree to that statement. He’d known Constantino since he was ten years old—unless he had to, unless given no other option, Gian couldn’t imagine putting a bullet in his oldest and best friend. They had too much history, too much time watching each other’s backs.
Friendship did mean something.
At least, to Gian.
“You need to, at the very least, make a statement against what Edmond did to put your own image and respect back in place for the younger Capos,” Constantino said. “Don’t bite the fucking hand that feeds you, Gian, not with this. Those men would have wanted you, and every time they see you running for the boss, or standing at his side, is another day that they feel like it was you that betrayed them, not him.”
Gian considered those words carefully. “And then what if I do, what after that? Then I have a pissed off boss to contend with, and an older generation of men who wouldn’t think twice about killing me to get me out of the way. I’m walking a very thin line here.”
Constantino shrugged. “So, do it carefully.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one sticking the target on your own back.”
“You sure about that, man? Because the way I see it, anyone on your side is not on theirs. And that’s a pretty big fucking target, Gian.”
Fair enough.
Gian headed out the back entrance of the restaurant, entering into the alley where he had parked his Lexus. After the meeting he’d had with Constantino and Stephan, Gian needed five minutes to himself. He needed to get his thoughts together and figure out whether or not the Capos’ warnings had any real merit for him to consider.
Then, his phone buzzed.
Gian pulled the device out of his pocket, ignoring the chill in the air. Cara’s name popped up on the screen, but the message surprised him the most. An image file, it seemed. He didn’t even hesitate in opening it, his grin growing the very second it loaded.
Tanned skin.
Black thigh-high stockings with lace trim at the top.
Red curls framing delicate shoulders and naked breasts.
And that fucking choker …
She had taken the image in front of a mirror, from her painted-red smile down, but it was perfect. He was instantly hard and no longer giving any shits about his problems.
Took you long enough, he texted back instantly. Then adding, But so worth the wait.
He got a wink in response, but that wasn’t enough for Gian.
I’m coming over, he messaged, don’t take any of that off.
Gian didn’t even wait for Cara’s response before he grabbed the key fob from his pocket, and pointed it at his car thirty feet away. He hit the unlock button, felt his phone buzz, and then the blast came.
Hot.
Loud.
Dead.
Gian was sure he was dead.
Except, dead people couldn’t feel pain, and he was in a hell of a lot of pain.