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I eat the food, but I refuse to look or speak to Gio. He grumbles and then his phone rings, and he quickly ends the call. “It seems it’s your lucky break—you can hate me from a distance. Eat.”
I set the fork down and grumble at his imaginary figure. “Asshole.” I don’t understand him at all. Hate him? He has the nerve to act offended, as if I’m the villain in all of this. I’m the one who was used and taken away, forced into a marriage. I’m the injured party.
Chapter Eleven
Gio
We strip Rio down to his boxers and pull all his belongings from his vehicle before he could leave the mansion. “Where did you get this phone, and who sent you to plant it in my wife’s bags?”I ask Rio, who is tied up and hanging by his hands.
Since the attack, there was a chance that we still had enemies working on the inside, but we are slowly flushing them out. With the change of command, it’s clear that many don’t have as much faith in Matteo as they had in Dario. The problem is our brides. They feel the Conti Family is weakened by the love for our wives. What they don’t understand is that it makes us stronger.
“Mrs. Conti. I swear,” he insists.
My sister steps out of the darkness, and Rio grows pale. “Amore, you sent him up with a phone for Patricia?” It never made sense why people tell stupidly obvious lies.
“No. Why the fuck would I do that?”My sister isn’t the kind of woman to play with, so this should be interesting.
“She’s lying.”Wow, this man has got to be a fool, or her reputation has never reached his ears.
“Are you calling my wife a liar?” Matteo gets in the piece of shit’s face, causing him to defecate on himself.
“No. Um…maybe she’s mistaken.”
“Amore. Are you mistaken?”he questions Vivian.
“Nope. I left all my disposable phones in my other bags. Oh, wait, I don’t go out shopping, but you wouldn’t know that, douchebag, since I’ve only just married Matteo and haven’t been out of the house since.”
“You fucked up,” my brother-in-law chuckles. The grin on his face is only as deep as the frown on mine. He wanted my wife to contact her family.
“See, you didn’t do your research, and we have. The phone has been scanned for the last calls. Even though the call logs were cleared, the cellular history wasn’t. The test call was to Detective Sanchez.” His face turns a shade of white I didn’t think was possible for his darker Italian complexion. It’s fucking sickly, almost grayish tan. He should see a doctor. I break out in laughter.
“You all right, Gio?”
I press my hand to my chest. “Yeah, he looks like he’s going to be sick. Like somehow he’s more afraid of that pussy Sanchez than us.”
“That is pretty hilarious.” Vivian takes a blade to his face before we can say anything.
“What the hell?” I shout.
“Hey, he called me a liar. Don’t worry. I didn’t kill him. I saved that for you.”
Our little bitch captive whimpers in pain, and I do my best to not slaughter him without learning more. “I want more information. You got into our home. How did you know she’d call?”
“She had some people she would miss. The chef is her closest person at the estate. They told me she’d want to call him.” Him? I do my best to hold in the blatant jealousy that my wife, in her time of anger and hatred, called another man. Does she love this man intimately? Is this the reason she didn’t want to be married to either the Russian or myself?
My fists clench as my ire intensifies. Then I hear Rio utter his final words. “Oh, is the geek jealous?”
I grab my sister’s blade, slice his throat, and walk out of the room without a second thought. There is no need for more answers. He didn’t deserve another breath.
It’s time to fucking get answers from my wife. I know Matteo spoke with her before, but I want more than basic questions. These answers are personal.
“Tell me about the chef. Are you in love with him?”
“In love with him?”
“You heard me. Don’t fucking repeat the damn question, Patricia.”
“No.”
