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“What makes you think you’ll make it out of here alive to even see that evidence?” Cristian asks, working his jaw.
“If you kill me, Gigi will never forgive you.” My gaze whips to Benny. “She won’t forgive you either.”
“My daughter isn’t some guardian angel in your life,” Cristian spits.
“No, she’s mywife. The woman I love and who loves me back.” I stare at him with the most certainty I’ve ever spoken between us. “I’ll never make her choose between us because I know it’ll kill her. That’s why, for years, we kept our relationship secret?—”
Cristian storms in my direction. “Excuse me?”
I don’t fall back a step, and we’re toe-to-toe, faces only inches away from each other. “But that sneaking around stops now.”
Our breathing is hard, ragged, and I’m waiting for him to pull a Monster Marchetti move.
Stab me with a hidden knife.
Slit my throat.
At least punch me in the face.
And that’s what he does.
I wince and jerk my head to the side at the impact.
Cristian shakes out his fist.
As if he’s satisfied for now, he retreats a step.
I jerk my chin toward Sonny’s head. “I’m not asking for an alliance or any favors. Sonny is dead. One of my wars is over. We can continue ours if you’d like. That gift is asking you to accept my relationship with Gigi. Let your daughter be happy.”
Cristian cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. “You’re right. Gigi will hate me if I kill you. That’s why I’m letting you leave now because I have a brokenhearted daughter at home. But she won’t remain married to you forlong.” His lips tilt into an evil smirk. “She’ll be a widow soon anyway.”
“Is this my seven seconds?” I raise a brow.
“This is me granting you one day on earth so I don’t have to go home and lie to my daughter, but don’t be confused, Lombardi. I’m sending you to hell soon.”
48
I’ve been waiting in the foyer for my father and Benny to return from the club for hours.
The door opens just as I’m about torest my eyesfor a moment. I spring to my feet and rush to meet them.
“Not now, Gigi,” my father snaps while storming past me. “We’ll discuss this in the morning.”
“But—” I start, but he interrupts me.
“I said, we’ll talk in the morning.”
When he stops, there’s a relief that he’s changed his mind.
“Get some sleep,” he says, proving me wrong. He kisses the top of my head and walks upstairs to his wing of the mansion.
I spin around to face Benny.
He holds up his hands, his palms facing me. “He’s still alive, okay?”
I release a long, almost-painful breath of relief. “Sonny?”
“Dead.”
