His jaw clenched, his eyes hardened, and he set his hand on the desk, tapping his fingers on the polished wood. “Show respect, sorellina. I’m your capo.”
I was the one to clench my teeth now.
“I’m still getting pressure from Carmine,” Gio finally spoke again. “And I’m not able to hold the Heads of Italy off anymore.” He leaned forward and looked at something on his phone, gave a harsh grunt of disapproval, and then reached for his tablet pen to write something down on the screen in front of him.
I watched him do his masculine scrawl, saw the way he looped his letter A… just like I did. How funny something so minute had made me feel closer to him as we’d grown up. Now I just felt cold and lonely.
Once he was finished, he leaned back again and pushed the tablet away. I shook my head even though he hadn’t said anything else. He exhaled, clearly frustrated. But not as much as I was.
“I won’t fucking do it.” The curse was out of my mouth before I could stop it, and my face heated with the shame I’d spoken in such a way in front of Gio.
“Damn, Claudia,” Terzo, our cousin and an enforcer for Gio, said with amusement.
Terzo sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, leaned back with an arrogance I saw time and time again with all the men in the Cosa Nostra.
I shot him an annoyed look and promptly looked back at Gio. “I won’t. I’ll run, Gio. I’m not doing it.” The words were a rapid flow of words mashed together and thrown at Gio like a weapon. I was on the verge of crying because I was so pissed.
“Let’s talk about this, Claudia—”
“No.” I took a step back, and Gio slowly rose, placing his hands flat on the table and leaning forward.
The look on his face was all capo. No one said no to him. I stared at his knuckles, ones that were scabbed over and busted up. Now that I was looking a little closer, I noticed a bruise shadowing the side of his neck. It was hard to make out because of his tattoos, but I saw it.
“Claudia,” he said in a tone that made me feel like he saw me as a child throwing a tantrum. “Sit down and relax. I’ll explain how all of this is going to go. I promise it’s not as bad—”
“I said no.” I turned and left before he could say anything else, my feet carrying me fast down the hall, past staff who hustled out of my way, and right out the front door.
I heard Gio shout my name, followed by Terzo cursing. One of Gio’s men patrolled the property close enough to hear them, and he tensed, taking a step closer. I cut him a deadly look, but he kept coming until he placed a finger against his ear. I knew there was a tiny microphone that connected him to the rest of the guards and to Gio.
His mouth moved and he stopped, no longer advancing.
I had the burner phone Dmitry had given me in my hand, about to call him. I didn’t know where he was, but I had to hope he’d followed me here. If what he’d said was true—that I was what he wanted—I knew he wouldn’t still be in Vermont.
That should have terrified me, knowing I had a certifiable stalker, but I didn’t care. A feminist I was not.
My fingers shook as I flipped the phone open, but before I could push the speed-dial button that would call Dmitry, a sudden flash of headlights came from the left. A big, black SUV came barreling out from the side and stopped at the bottom of the front steps of the house.
The driver’s-side door opened, and I tensed, ready to run if Gio thought having one of his lackeys get their hands on me was going to stop the shit show I was currently throwing myself into.
But I froze when I saw a familiar big Russian emerge and slowly walk around the front of the SUV as if he wasn’t on Cosa Nostra territory with probably a hundred guns pointed right at him.
I looked over to where the guard still stood, and when he took a step toward Dmitry, I saw the Russian’s mouth move. I was too far away to hear what was said, but when the guard swallowed and took a step back, I felt a wave of relief. Whatever Dmitry had said, I was pretty sure it included bodily harm.
“Priv’yet, detka.” Dmitry grinned and opened the passenger-side door.
I glanced back at the house, knowing Gio would come out any minute. I didn’t think, just tore off down the patio steps and into the car.
Once Dmitry was back in the SUV and pulling away from the house, I couldn’t help but wonder how the entire situation had been weird as hell.