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Giancarlo
PLAYLIST: ? SICKO MODE - TRAVIS SCOTT FEATURING DRAKE ?
The genuine surpriseon Falynn’s face is beautiful. Her pouty lips part. Her normally soft eyes widen, her pupils dilating. A golden warmth develops on her brown complexion, like the sight of me draws instant heat from her.
The feeling is mutual.
I wasn’t planning on checking out my brother’s secret hideout tonight. After Fozzi and I visited Tasha’s place last night, we spent today regrouping and piecing together my brother and Falynn’s whereabouts. Neither were anywhere else in the city. My brother was nowhere to be found. It was as if Falynn had poofed into thin air.
But I knew that was impossible. Frustrated and in a fit of withdrawals, I prepped a line and racked my brain for any other place they could be.
That’s when it came to me—my brother’s compound deep in the Mojave desert. He purchased it almost a year ago when he first found out he was being reassigned to handle our operation in Vegas. He’d dedicated months to making it an impenetrable fortress under the impression no one else knew about his getaway.
I wouldn’t have known either if he hadn’t died. If the property lawyer hadn’t reached out about his most recent real estate purchase.
I admit, I didn’t believe my brother was alive until I saw it with my own two eyes. I decided against visiting the Dollhouse as planned. If he’s alive, then they must’ve been together. Finding one is finding both.
Still, I didn’t expect to witness my brother and his fat fuck friend Louis leaving the compound. I lurked in the darkness as they got into their car and drove off, a cloud of red dust billowing behind them.
Of course, he would survive. Even a fatal explosive can’t stop Giovanni when his mind is set on something. He won’t let death stop him from being King.
So I’ll have to. I didn’t need to follow my brother to know where he was going. He’s enroute to the Dollhouse, thinking he’ll catch me by surprise. No doubt he believes it was me who tried to kill him.
He doesn’t realize how shortsighted and foolish his behavior is. It doesn’t matter who tried to take him out. As King, there’ll always be someone.
He can kill me. He can kill Antonio Lovato. But there’s always going to be another threat waiting for him. My brother’s too addicted to power, too arrogant to realize he lets his ego rule him. I have my issues—many of them, some would say, make me a danger not only to myself but also to society—but I don’t fear death. I welcome it with open arms. I’ll die if it means pushing my brother over the edge. If it means making his Queen mine even just once.
Because I’d still win, and deep down, he’d know it, too.
Once he and fat fuck drove off, I waited. The darkness is my friend, my high making me see things normal human eyes would miss. Someone like my brother hates the sense of powerlessness from the dark, but I embrace it and all its infinite possibilities.
Gaining entry to the compound is scarily easy. Legally, my brother’s still dead. His possessions are my possessions. His access code is my access code.
Just like everything else in his life.
Tonight is a night where anything goes. So unpredictable, dare I say, a frisson of excitement shoots through my veins.
Falynn takes a cautious step back from me. Her fear rolls off her in waves, hitched breaths she slowly inhales. Her friend is no different, so frozen she seems to forget the glass of wine in her hands.
They’ve foolishly had a little too much to drink. Fine by me. It’s another advantage.
“We have some catching up to do, princess,” I say into the grave silence. “Just me and you.”
Tasha screams when I grip a headful of her hair and drag her along with me. She’s a fighter, this one. She twists and claws at me, even drawing blood. Unfortunately for her, I’m still three times as strong. Her wine glass shatters on the floor as I lift her off the ground and carry her into the kitchen.
Falynn’s not to be outdone. She decides it’s smart to attempt to attack me from behind. I sense her move before she even makes it, dodging the swing of her arm with ease. She’s clutching a glass shard in her hands.
I throw Tasha to the ground with enough force that she whimpers like a wounded animal. In the next second, my large hand clenches around Falynn’s neck. I pry the glass shard from her fingers and squeeze her windpipe tighter.
“Bad girl,” I admonish with a click of my tongue. She weighs next to nothing. I can lift her up off the ground with one hand.
But she has another trick up her sleeve. Another glass shard she’s kept tucked into her other palm. The glass slices across my neck in a swift motion even as I throttle the shit out of her. Fresh blood leaks from the gash, trickling down my throat.
She just tried to kill me.
She’s only managed a surface level cut, but the attempt was made. If she’d gotten a better angle, she very well could have severed my jugular.
I force that piece of glass from her hand, too, then fling her against the wall.
