She didn’t fight me, didn’t do anything. She reminded me of a ragdoll. She probably waited for me to do what everyone expected me to do, to fuck her even if she was unwilling, to hurt her until she begged me for forgiveness. And I could have done it but I didn’t want to. Despite what she’d done and how bad she’d made me look, I still wanted her, and not just her body.
“Being submissive isn’t like you,” I said quietly. Her pulse sped under my fingertips. It was the only sign that she wasn’t as indifferent as her expression made me want to believe. Maybe she didn’t care what happened to her because she was heartbroken over the bastard I’d found her with.
The idea sent a new spike of wrath through me and I quickly released her before I lost control. I slid off her and sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to ignore the look of surprise and shock crossing her face. I glared at the floor, clenching and unclenching my hands. If Carmine hadn’t killed the fucker, I would probably have done it. I still wanted to do it, wanted to slice the part of his brain out that harbored the memory of Gianna’s body under him.
Gianna sat up slowly, carefully as if she thought I might attack if she moved too fast. “Aren’t you going to rape and torture me?”
I almost laughed. That’s what everyone expected. Most men in our world even thought she deserved it. I turned to her, my gaze tracing her beautiful face. Even more beautiful than my memory had made me believe, even now when she was pale and her eyes were puffy from tears.
“Did you think I would?” I asked in a surprisingly calm voice. Some of my anger was suddenly gone now that she was watching me with her wide blue eyes.
“Yes. My father’s men definitely thought you would. Didn’t you see their expressions? They probably hope that you’ll give them a go at me once you’re done with me.”
Of course, they’d told me so numerous times while we’d been on the hunt. I knew what they thought was happening right now. Fuck, part of me wished they were right. I wasn’t a good guy. “I don’t give a fuck about your father’s men, and I don’t give a fuck about your father. And if they lay a single finger on you, I’m going to kill them. They won’t hurt you, nobody will.”
Her brows crinkled. “Once I’m back in Chicago, Father will punish me.”
Did she really think I’d hand her over to her asshole of a father? I hadn’t hunted her for sixth months only to give her up. I smirked. “You aren’t going back to Chicago, Gianna. You are coming to New York with me.”
Hope and relief crossed her face. “To Aria? Is she alright? Did she get in trouble because she helped me?”
Somehow her response annoyed me. “Aria is fine,” I said, before I stood and walked toward the window. I kept my back to her when I asked, “That guy, did you love him?”
I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she said “yes.” I couldn’t hurt that fucker anymore, and I didn’t want to hurt her, so what could I do? Kill someone else, preferably the two assholes from the Outfit who’d been grating on my nerves for too long, and maybe while I was at it, I’d kill her fucking father the next time I saw him.
“Sid?” she asked in a shaky voice, and I almost lost it right then. I scowled at her over my shoulder. Her eyes were actually moist with fucking tears.
“I don’t care what his name was,” I growled.
Fuck, I wanted to kill that guy so badly. I’d have paid a billion dollars if there were a way to resurrect the asshole, only so I could kill him again. Slowly, painfully.
“His name was Sid,” she said stubbornly, a familiar glint returning to her eyes.
She still hadn’t answered my question. “Did you love him?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “I barely knew him.” I would have rejoiced if she hadn’t started biting her lower lip like she was fighting tears. She looked fucking sad and then a tear slid out of her left eye. She blinked a few times.
“If you didn’t love him, then why are you crying?”
She glared. Glared, as if she was the one with reason to be angry. “You really don’t know?”
“I’m a Made Man, Gianna. I’ve seen many people die, have killed many myself.” And right now I wanted to kill again more than anything else in the world.
“Sid didn’t deserve to die. He died because of me. He never did anything wrong.”
What the fuck? Really? “He touched the wrong girl. He died for touching what wasn’t his to touch.”
Gianna shook her head. “You wanted to kill him yourself, didn’t you? That’s why you stopped Stan? Not because you wanted to spare Sid’s life.”
Did that really come as a surprise to her? For someone who was convinced I and every other member of the mob were monsters, she seemed oddly surprised by my desire to kill the asshole who’d pawed at my fiancée.
Before I could reply, my phone rang. Luca’s name flashed on my screen. I had only sent him a short text while I was in the car. He’d tried calling me but, except for a quick talk to the pilot of our private jet, I hadn’t been in the mood to speak to anyone,
