“Is he still alive?” I didn’t have to specify I was talking about Fredo. I didn't care what repercussions Fredo got because of being an asshole, but I also wasn’t surprised that Gio had beaten his ass.
I just hope he didn’t kill him. I wasn’t sure the disrespect Fredo had shown warranted death.
But then again, my brother thought about that stuff on a totally different level.
Shoot first. Ask questions later. That was his motto.
“For now. But with a mouth like his, Fredo’s life span is going to be short.” He tossed the rag onto the bar and turned to grab a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t bother pouring it into a glass, just tipped it into his mouth, taking several swallows before facing me again and crossing his arms over his chest. “I already know what you’re going to say.”
I opened my mouth, and he lifted a hand, stopping me. I watched him silently as he made his way over to the desk and sat behind it. The exhale he let out was one of clear exhaustion.
“I don’t want to put you in an arranged marriage. All these guys are assholes. I’d rather scoop out my own eyeballs with spoons than give you to one of these pricks.”
I felt this immense weight lift off me and sucked in a ragged breath, as if it was the first time I could actually breathe.
“What changed?” This was what I wanted. I would’ve fought tooth and nail not to make an arranged marriage happen.
He looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow before leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head. His biceps bulged, and his suit jacket pulled across his torso as he gave me a sardonic smirk. “I thought you didn’t want an arranged marriage? Or did I misunderstand?”
I shook my head furiously and sat in the chair across from his desk. “No. This is what I want. I’d rather die than be with any of those assholes.” His chuckle was low and deep. “But you said Carmine…”
“Don't worry about him. I’ll figure something out.” He closed his eyes for a moment, but I knew he was far from relaxed.
I knew he was mulling things over, thinking about everything.
“A convent.” When he opened his eyes and looked at me again, I felt the confusion clearly on my face
“Excuse me?”
He ran his thumb over his bottom lip, lost in thought. “Yeah. A convent. That’s how we’re going to pull this off. It’s how I’ll keep you safe and stop these motherfuckers from sniffing around you.”
I shook my head because I had no idea what he was talking about. “What exactly do you mean by a convent? I’m not following.”
“I’m sending you to one, Claudia.”
If my eyes could have popped out, I was pretty sure they’d be on the floor right now. Right along with my jaw. “Um… come again?”
“We’re benefactors of several religious affiliations in the States. I’ll pull some strings to get you to one.” He kept running his finger over his bottom lip.
“Gio.” His name was a rush of air out of me. “A convent? Like… an actual convent?”
“I think there’s one in Vermont. I’ll have to double-check. But it’s perfect.” He grinned as if he’d just come up with the perfect solution.
He completely steamrolled my question, clearly in his own world as he thought this through.
“Nuns, Gio? You want me to be a nun?”
He snorted and shook his head, finally looking at me again. “Of course not. Well, not really. You’ll have to abide by the convent rules. But you’ll be protected there. Carmine isn’t gonna give me shit for not marrying you off if he thinks you’ve taken a vow with the church.”
I groaned and rested my head back on the chair, staring at the ceiling.
“For as bloodthirsty as Carmine is, he’s from the Old Country, and we both know how fucking serious they take that religious shit.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed them. This situation went from bad to worse. “You’re insane,” I murmured.
He grinned, but it wasn’t one that could be construed as being happy. No, it was the one that told me Gio knew he was batshit crazy, and he embraced the hell out of it.
“The sooner we get you placed over there, the sooner I can stop worrying about this shit.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “No fucking way I am handing you off to one of those douchebags. Every single one of them got worse as the week progressed.”
A part of me wanted to tell him I wasn’t going to a convent, but wasn’t this what I wanted? Wouldn’t this solve the issue?
I wanted an out, and my brother had just figured one out for me. I wanted to make my own choices. I wanted to be free. And I'd been willing to disappear to make that happen.