Page 17 of Giovanni

Looking about the cabin, I noticed that Player was sleeping. Massacre played on his phone while the other two men were talking quietly. Giovanni was busy on his phone, and everyone seemed off in their own world. Leaning towards Giovanni, I said nothing as I tried to seem uncomfortable.

“Are you alright,Bella?” he asked as I hid my smile. Looking up at him, I made sure my face was relaxed and showed no emotion before I replied.

“I don’t like flying,” I lied. I actually loved flying. Preferred it to driving most of the time, but he wouldn’t know that. Nope, he knew absolutely nothing about me, and for that, I was grateful because if he ever learned the truth about who I really was, I was indeed dead.

“Would you like to go back and lay down? The flight to New York is going to take a few hours. Maybe resting will help.”

“I would like that. Thank you.”

Saying nothing more, I allowed Giovanni Valentinetti to help me to my feet and escort me back to the small room at the back of the plane. Though the aircraft was classy and high-end, the room was small, almost as if it were an afterthought.

As I sat down on the bed, I reached for his hand and looked up at him. “Trust no one, Giovanni.”

“Excuse me,” the man flinched as if I slapped him.

“You are in danger. There are people after you.”

“How do you know this?”

“I just do. Like I know why you are going to New York City. Call off the deal with Grimaldi. He works for them.”

As expected, Gio wasted no time, grabbing my shoulders as he forcefully pulled me to him. God, he smelled delicious. This close, I could see deep into his eyes things he wanted to be kept hidden. I knew them all. Every secret, every lie, every alliance. There was nothing about him I didn’t know. I also knew he could quickly kill me with a snap of my neck. His preferred way of killing. While some men preferred guns, knives, rope, Giovanni Valentinetti preferred breaking the neck of those who wronged him, and he was proficient at it. “How do you know about my meeting? Who do you work for? Who are you?”

“I am here to make sure you survive. As for your meeting, I found out about it right before I was sold.”

“Sold to who? Who bought you? Why do the Golden Skulls want you protected? Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to no one. Please, I’m tired now. I’ve said enough. We can talk later.” I silently waited and prayed he was true to what I knew, closing my eyes for effect.

That Giovanni Valentinetti did not hurt women.

Ever. And when he gently lowered me back to the bed, I said nothing, keeping my eyes closed until I heard the click of the door, alerting me that the man I was here to protect was indeed a man of his word.

Now I just needed to make sure he stayed that way.

6

Giovanni

Leaving Layla to sleep in the cabin, I returned to my chair and looked at my cousin. One of the few men on the planet I knew I could trust. Well, thought I could trust.

Yet, he brings a woman I know nothing about, and I was starting to believe just maybe Reggie and the Golden Skulls didn’t know who she truly was either. There was something about her, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. She looked sickly, and I could see she had been hurt, but she had a will of iron. A resolve that refused to break. The woman was more than everyone assumed, and all I knew about her was her name.

Only her name.

Layla. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. A woman who apparently isn’t what everyone perceives. She may look weak, sickly, and unable to hurt a fly to the unsuspecting observer, but from what she just showed me back in my private room, she was anything but.

She was more.

More of what I had no idea, but I was going to find out.

I had no doubt that something did happen to her. I could clearly see the fading bruises and scars on her arms and face, but she wasn’t as helpless as Reggie led me to believe. Was she playing him and the Golden Skulls? Was she really the sister of one of the members?

People rarely surprised me, yet she did so easily.

I fell for her act like everyone else.

Though something told me not all of it was an act. Whatever did happen to her, only she knew, and she wasn’t speaking to anyone. At least, that was what my cousin told me. And if he didn’t know, I was sure the Golden Skulls had no clue.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime