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I can’t decide if that’s reassuring or not. Having all these dangerous men might provide us with security, but it also suggests the building is a potential target for attack. I hold on to Gio’s arm, gripping tighter than necessary as we head for the elevator.
“Don’t worry, Emilia.” He seems to have read my thoughts again. “Things aren’t as scary as they look.”
I doubt that’s the case, but I realize he’s trying to make me feel better about the danger Alessandro is facing.
“Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask as we step onto the elevator. Gio keys the code for the penthouse into the security panel.
“Sandro wanted you taken care of, and I was the best man to do it. He could hardly ask Leo. He’d have handed you a gun and told you to look out for yourself.”
It’s not really the answer I was after. If it was a simple case of someone bringing me home and babysitting me, Alessandro could have asked Tomaso, since it’s his job, anyway. What I really want to know is why Gio isn’t in the thick of things with his brothers.
“Would you have preferred to go with them?”
Gio shakes his head. “No, Emilia, I’d rather be here.” He sighs heavily. “The things I’ve done for this family don’t sit well with me. I don’t sleep at night. I’m not like my brothers.”
“I see that.”
His smile is sad as we step off the elevator and walk the short distance to the apartment. “Don’t worry, though. If anyone comes for you, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
Gio opens the door to the apartment, and I finally release his arm. I kick my shoes off, not caring where they land, and go to recline on the chaise longue.
“You look like the lady of the manor lying on the couch like that,” Gio teases. “Can I fetch anything for m’lady? Tea, coffee, brandy?”
“I’d kill for a hot chocolate.”
My words make me cringe inwardly, but Gio doesn’t seem to notice.
“Let me see what I can do.”
As he disappears to the kitchen, I close my eyes. The right side of my face throbs. I saw my reflection in the car window, and it looked grotesquely swollen, but I haven’t examined it properly yet. Perhaps it’s best not to until it’s gone down a bit.
Tonight has been one of the worst of my life. I try to console myself with the knowledge that things could be a lot worse. Despite my uncle’s intentions, I’m safe at home. Though Alessandro is out there and likely up to his neck in danger, he’s with his brothers and I know they’ll take care of each other. Still, I can’t prevent a sob from bursting out of me.
“Hey.” Gio suddenly appears by my side. He sets a mug down on the coffee table and crouches on the floor next to me. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?” I demand. “I saw a man die tonight. I saw the blood on his shirt, the life gone from his eyes.”
“Oh, Emilia.” Gio gets up onto the sofa beside me and pulls me into a hug. “I thought he knocked you out before that happened.”
I shake my head. “No, I passed out after I saw him.”
“Shit. I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s never easy.” Gio’s voice is laden with sympathy.
I draw in a deep, shuddering breath. I refuse to fall to pieces. The man who died tonight deserved what he got. I will not cry for him.
My eye drifts toward the mug of hot chocolate Gio brought me. There’s a big blob of cream on the top.
“Oh, that looks great.” I reach for the mug. “Did you whip the cream?”
“I squirted it out of a can.” Gio pulls back and stares down at me, his brow furrowed in concern at my abrupt mood shift. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. My face hurts and I’m tired. I’m also sad about my uncle, my grandfather, this whole sorry mess, but I will not let it break me.”
“Good for you,” Gio says. “We’ll make a mob wife of you yet.”
I take his words as a compliment because the prospect of being a good wife to Alessandro doesn’t scare me. Not one bit.
Alessandro
