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If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. Storming over until we are chest to chest, she somehow manages to look down her nose at me in that stuck-up way of hers, even though we’re the same height.
“Careful, Nova. You think you’re so fucking smart, but one word from me and I could destroy you. Not just you, but dear old Dad too.” She leans forward. “Who do you think my daddy would believe if I told him someone was making me uncomfortable, touching his little angel inappropriately?” she says in a saccharin-sweet voice.
I don’t give her the reaction she’s after, used to this stupid game of hers.
“Well, I’d like to think your father is where he is because he’s a smart man. You could try to push your lies on him, but I’m not so sure you’d come off as the helpless victim. Still, we both know you’re going to do what you’re going to do, Gia.”
She shakes her head in disgust. “You’re so fucking weak, it’s pathetic.” She steps back and strips out of her dress, tossing it on the floor before returning to her closet.
I move over to the wall and lean against it, blowing out a breath as I pray for strength. Lord knows you need it when it comes to Gia. She’s enough to test the patience of a saint. She can say what she wants to me, and she has over the years. My indifference to her words makes her more and more spiteful.
The thing that Gia hasn’t realized is that she’s not special. Sure, her dad is the don, and in the Italian Mafia, it doesn’t get much more powerful than that. But Vigo’s power is notGia’s. In the Cosa Nostra, women are nothing more than pretty objects and bargaining chips. I’m the only exception to the rule.
I’m not naïve, though. There is some truth to Gia’s words about men not wanting me because of my role as her guard. Men with large egos tend to balk at the idea of a woman being stronger than them or more skilled in combat. When the time comes, though, I’m not stupid enough to believe I’ll get a free pass. I’ll either end up with someone old enough not to give a shit beyond me having a perky set of boobs or someone who will see my strength as a challenge, something he can break.
I shake my head. Those thoughts are not something I need to dwell on right now. I have enough to deal with today without worrying about the future.
As Gia steps out of the closet, this time in a far more demur navy blue dress, I wonder if some of her anger comes from the fact that she’s not married either. Twenty-four might seem young, but in the Mafia, most women are married off when they are eighteen. There have been whispers questioning why a marriage hasn’t been arranged yet for the don’s only daughter, but most speculate that it’s the don wanting to make sure he leaves his throne to the right successor. After all, a Mafia marriage has very little to do with the bride and more to do with power, prestige, and money.
I watch as she slips on a pair of impossibly high heels and grabs a clutch from her collection, shoving in the essentials.
“I’m ready. Try not to embarrass me tonight,” she orders, walking past me and flicking her hair.
Sending a text to the guard at the gate letting him know we’re on the move, I follow behind her as she walks the long hallway and down the stairs, stopping her before she steps outside. She huffs, but lets me take the lead as I pull out the keys to thecar and open the back door for her to get in. If I drive tonight, it gives her the illusion of privacy, being in the back all alone.
She climbs in and starts tapping on her phone as I start the car and head toward the city center. She doesn’t speak to me the whole way before we arrive at one of the family’s restaurants,La Dolce Vita.
I park at the curb in front of the building before climbing out and tossing the keys to Ed, the valet. He winks at me as I move to the rear passenger door and hold it open for Gia. She gets out of the car without looking at me and heads toward the glass double doors.
I follow behind closely, my eyes scanning for any sign of danger as we enter the restaurant. Once inside, the hostess moves to greet us, but Gia stops her. “Aldo Lambardi’s table.”
The hostess, clearly recognizing Gia, doesn’t miss a beat. She nods and offers us a quick smile before leading us to a table near the large glass windows overlooking the river. I scan the room again, taking in the many familiar faces, but I don’t make eye contact or offer them smiles. I’m not here to mingle. I’m here to work.
I wait until Gia is seated before standing against the wall, trying to make myself seem unimposing. I nod to Aldo’s two guards, who are doing the same, before returning my focus to Gia. Her dinner date is Aldo Lambardi, a prominent figure in the underworld but not a popular one. As the underboss, he’s the man slated to take the role of don when my boss passes on the mantle.
I watch as Gia gushes over him and take in the faint grimace on his face. I wonder if he even likes her or if he is only here because he is expected to be. A courtship between the two isn’t strictly necessary. Contracts can and have been signed whenpaired couples are little more than children, but Gia’s case is different. I wonder if he thinks he can sway the don’s opinion in his favor if he can get Gia to fall in love with him.
Aldo signals for a waiter before barking out his order and ordering for Gia as if she is incapable of deciding what she wants to eat. If it bothers her, she doesn’t show it. She leans forward and smiles at Aldo, one of her fingers sliding over her lip in what I’m guessing is an act of seduction.
Aldo offers her a smile—one that doesn’t reach his eyes—as another waiter approaches with a wine bottle. He shows the label to Aldo, who looks at it and nods before indicating for the waiter to pour them both a glass. With a flick of his wrist, he dismisses the waiter before starting up a conversation with Gia.
Their low murmurs reach my ears, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Not that it matters. My job isn’t to eavesdrop. It’s to keep Gia safe, sometimes even from herself.
As the food arrives, Aldo looks at his men before his eyes land on me. He does a slow scan of my body, taking in the black suit and white shirt that I’m wearing, which is pretty much standard for us bodyguards. Something in his eyes flairs, though it’s not lust. It’s something far colder, making a shiver run through my body.
I don’t react to him as his eyes linger on me for a second longer before he turns back to Gia. I fight back a shudder of revulsion.
There is no denying that the man is good-looking, though he’s far too polished for my liking. His dark hair is always styled, his suit perfectly tailored, his teeth a little too white, and his smile practiced. If Mattel made a Mafia version of Ken, he’d look exactly like Aldo.
But as good-looking and charming as Aldo can be, it’s the other side of him that people whisper about. The man is ruthless, thoughit could be said that most made men are. But Aldo isn’t violent because it’s part of the job. He’s violent because he likes it. There’s no rhyme or reason why he lashes out. Nobody is safe from his temper. He sees everyone as beneath him, though he seems to have a particular hatred for women.
I tend to blend into the background, and women talk, so I hear all the gossip since people forget to watch their words around me. I know all about his sadistic streak and how rough he gets with women, even the ones he pays for, who never tell him no. Rumor has it that he likes the fight, so he favors young, innocent women who have no idea what they are getting themselves into. And anyone who cries about it disappears.
As much as Gia annoys me, I’ve spent most of my life keeping her safe. The thought of doing all that to hand her over to a monster like him makes no sense to me.
And yet here we are.
Chapter 2
