Ruthless Spring

He slams his hand against the armrest and I flinch. “This isn’t a fucking game, Winter. I understand that you’re toughening up, which I would applaud any other time, but not tonight.” His eyes meet mine. “Do you understand me? This is not a game. When the fuck did Diamond tell you about The Drake?”

I ball my hands into fists, my nails biting into my palms as I heave a deep breath. “He told me right before the club closed down tonight,” I tell him. “I went to take my break in the back and he was there. He told me that I could trust him before telling me to pass on the information to Giovanni.”

Enzo closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” he says as he blows out a deep breath, opening his eyes. “Okay,” he repeats, more to himself this time. He turns back around and puts the car in drive.

I watch him closely as we start the journey back to the house. I can’t ease the tension in my body because of his reaction. Obviously, having any hitman after me isn’t ideal, but I can tell from Enzo’s reaction that this is the one that no one would ever want on their tail.

I remain quiet on the rest of the drive home, even as Enzo swerves in and out of traffic as if hell hounds are on his tail.

When we pull into the compound, he whips into the driveway, barely getting the keys out of the ignition before he’s getting out. He yanks my door open.

“Hurry up,” he orders sharply. Even as he says it, I can tell his mind is in another place as he peers up at the front door.

I get out, moving past him as he slams the door.

“Go,” he orders, nodding his head toward the front door.

He trails behind me and as usual, the front door isn’t locked. I guess it doesn’t need to be when there’s so much security in this place. And once you pass the front door, there are men lurking in the shadows, waiting to shoot off the head of any intruder.

Enzo shoots past me and I can already tell where he’s heading. “Follow.” He sticks with the short commands and I don’t argue, following closely behind him.

He raps on Giovanni’s door, I guess as a warning that he’s coming in, because he puts his passcode in, opening the door before anyone calls out. The door swings open and I raise my brows when I spot the redhead sitting in Giovanni’s lap.

Her black dress is a rumpled mess, the straps falling down her arms and exposing her breasts. Her red hair is flowing down her back and as she turns her head to look at us, her eyes are blazing with anger.

Unease moves inside me and I shift from one foot to another, before going still. The redhead looks slightly familiar and I try to figure out why, but before I can, she’s gone from view. She lands on the floor with a thump and Giovanni stands up as if he didn’t just push her.

He fixes the undone buttons on his shirt, a crease in his brows as he looks at Enzo. “Get out,” he says to the girl without looking at her.

She lets out a little noise as she rises to her feet, her boobs still hanging out of her dress. She sticks her lip out in a pout that looks childish for a woman her age. “But-”

Giovanni spins on her, wrapping his hand around her throat. She gasps, her face turning red as she claws at his hand. “I said get the fuck out, Sienna.” He says, pushing her toward the door as he releases her.

She staggers a few steps before shakily straightening up. She lifts her chin as she walks to the door, trying to save some dignity. She lets out a sneer as she passes by me, and I swear I hear the word whore leave her lips before she slams the door.

“What’s wrong?” Giovanni asks Enzo the moment the door is closed.

“Diamond confronted Winter at the club tonight.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a confrontation,” I dip in, stopping when they both shoot me looks.

“What did he want?” Giovanni asks.

“She says he told her to inform you that the drake has the contract on her head.”

Giovanni’s body goes still.

There’s absolute silence in the room and I hold my breath, not wanting to spark the fuse that I can see powering up inside Giovanni. He finally moves, his hands moving to his pocket as he retrieves his phone.

“Call Lucia and Maximo,” he orders Enzo as he pulls his phone to his head. “Vito, my office now,” he barks into the phone before hanging up. His gaze darts to me. “What exactly did Diamond say to you?”

“Just that The Drake had the contract on my head and that I should tell you.” Which isn’t the complete truth, but he doesn’t need to know about Diamond saying that I’ll learn to trust him.

“Did he say why he was sharing this information with you?”

“I thought you were allies with his gang,” I say, recalling the intense meeting from a few weeks back.