Giovanni (Benedetti Brothers 4)

Giovanni moves fast, getting up, pulling on a pair of jeans, and opening the door in mere seconds. He steps into the hallway but doesn’t close the door all the way.

“What is it?”

“We got him on camera. He was just at her apartment.”

“What? Where are the men I put there?”

I sit up, holding the blanket to myself.

Vincent shakes his head, shrugs.

“Fuck! Get more men out there. I’ll be right down.”

Vincent nods and leaves. Giovanni is pulling on a T-shirt he snagged off the back of a chair and disappears into his closet.

“Is it Alessandro?”

He returns, loading a cartridge into a pistol. He looks at me. Nods.

I get out of the bed, go to him. “Don’t kill him, okay?” I don’t know why I ask that.

He just looks at me, doesn’t answer my question. And I know he will kill him. “I have to go.”

“Be careful. He’s got nothing to lose.”

“I know.” He pulls me close, studies my face for a long moment like he’s memorizing it, like it may be the last time he sees me, and worry settles into my belly. But then he lets me go. “Stay here, Emilia.”

I nod. He’s gone an instant later.

“No one touches him but me, understood?” he calls out in the hallway.

He’s gone. I’m still trying to register what’s happened. I sit back down on the bed and pull the covers up to my lap. I’m thinking.

Alessandro is here. He was in my apartment. I knew Giovanni was watching it. I think it’s strange my brother didn’t realize that he would be. Alessandro is more devious than that. More cunning. He should have known.

I feel anxious. Alessandro so close. In my apartment. What if I’d been there? I’m glad now that Giovanni wouldn’t let me go home earlier. I do wish he’d taken me with him now, though. I could help, and, if it came to it, protect Giovanni from Alessandro. Not that I think he needs protecting. Giovanni will crush my brother.

But something isn’t sitting right with me.

The bed is still warm from our lovemaking. What happened just now, I need time to process it. I think about that night at the safehouse, when Giovanni was there, when he came for me. He confronted me about it then. Fearlessly. I thought that was it. That my secret was out, that it was over. But tonight, me saying the word. Saying out loud that terrible word—I think that may have been the first real step I’ve taken in moving forward, in taking control of this rather than letting it control me. Letting it define me. Own me.

“I don’t want to fix you. I’ll take you exactly as you are. All the broken pieces of you.”

I push the covers back and get out of bed. I can’t lose myself in his words. This isn’t a fairy tale. People like us, we don’t get happily-ever-after.

I go into the bathroom, switch on the shower. Something keeps nagging at me about Alessandro having gone to my apartment. I assume he got word about me from one of the men from the other night at the club. I assume they told him Giovanni had me. Or did they say that I was on Giovanni’s arm? It certainly would have appeared so. It wouldn’t have looked like I was there against my will, not like them. If they got word to Alessandro, he would come for me. I wonder if his hate for me is greater than his sense of self-preservation?

When the water begins to steam, I step under the flow. I use Giovanni’s shampoo, his soap, and I can smell him around me. On me.

After the shower, I get dressed and go downstairs. I’m looking for my bag. My phone is inside, and I want to call Nan. I know it’s late, but I want her to know Alessandro is here, that Giovanni will pick him up tonight, and that she and dad are safe. That soon we won’t need to hide anymore.

After checking in the kitchen, I go to his study, where I find the door ajar. I push it open all the way and spot the book his father had given me on his desk. Blood betrayal. It’s the worst kind.

I shift my gaze away from it. I was right in my initial reaction to the old man. There is something vile about him.

My tote is sitting beside the desk on the floor. I pick it up, dig through it to find my phone, which is switched off. It must have run out of batteries. I look around for a charger. It’s an iPhone, although it’s an older one, so I think Giovanni must have a charger that fits. The unlocked drawers don’t contain one, though. I don’t try the one that was locked the other day. I know what’s inside that one.