Page 36
Story: Giovanna
She continues, “I’m not being clingy because I want him to be in love with me for fucksake. I wouldn’t choose him! But my life is just going to be a shitshow of Elio and his whores. I’ll hate myself.” One tear falls and then the dam breaks. She sobs, but she is embarrassed so she tries to hide her face behind her delicate hands.
Massimo gets up and drags her onto his lap. He wraps his arms around her and she presses her face into his throat.
He shushes her and whispers comforting words into her ears and somehow I manage to get jealous of my gay brother. I pick up my phone checking the messages in our sibling group chat.
Matty: Rossi is in Peacocks.
Matty: Elio. Opposite you.
Matty: Elio.
Massimo: Is this an actual problem or?
Matty: Where’s G?
Massimo: I’ll find her
Hmmm. Stefan hasn’t been so bold before. He has stayed out of our explicit territory and slithered like the snake he is from capo to capo hissing his venom behind closed doors. If he is at our club it is for a very deliberate purpose. He is provoking us or making a statement.
“Is Bluey still here?” I ask Massimo as I stand up and stretch my arms over my head. I’m not wasted but there is no way I’m driving. Getting a DUI would be a pathetic 2022 version of getting Al Caponed.
Massimo looks up, confused. “Bluey?”
“Yeah, the larrikin you’ve had working with you since you got back to Australia. Red hair. About your height. Thinks he’s God's gift to women.” Italian isn’t our mother tongue, sarcasm is.
“I know who he is, G. Just was confused why you were asking.”
“Because I’m the boss, Massimo.” Irritation is creeping into my voice and he cops one of my infamous scowls. “Is Bluey here or not?”
“He was talking to Fat Tony outside last I saw.”
Francesca has been watching our interaction quietly from her perch on Massimo’s lap. I catch her looking me up and down as I stand. With my hands in my pockets, my dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down my chest with no bra underneath, I pause to give her time to check me out. Sure enough, she licks her bottom lip slowly not realising I’m watching her.
Fucksake. The last thing I want to do is leave her to go to our fucking strip club. But it is probably a timely escape because my self-control reserves are running critically low. I’m tipsy and wet for her.
Sitting down to tug my leather brogues back on, I order Massimo to go tell Bluey he’s taking me toPeacocks, and by some miracle the little shit listens, depositing Francesca on his chair gently before heading out the back door.
She watches me do up a couple of buttons on my shirt and throw my blazer on and then beckons me over, curling her index finger. I crouch in front of her chair between her legs and she briskly tidies up my hair for me, running her fingers through it until it sits right.
“Thank you, darlin’” I rasp.
“Not sure why I’m helping you when you’re leaving me to go to a strip club,” she pouts and it turns me on something chronic. Since when do I get off on being given grief by girls?
“I have your brother to intimidate and my brother to kick up the ass. Not exactly going for a lap dance.” I’m still crouching in front of her, our faces are level and the temptation to kiss her is real. Really fucking real.
She leans forward and my brain goes into full meltdown mode.Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do here?I want to kiss her so badly, but I just can’t.
But her face brushes past my cheek and she presses her lips just next to my ear and whispers, “Good.” Her voice is husky and it makes me close my eyes, goosebumps scattering over my neck and back.
When I open my eyes she’s smiling like a cat that got the cream. She enjoys exerting power over me. Turning grumpy Giovanna into a quivering mess. She’s dangerous, this girl. Lethal even.
I grab her chin firmly and bring her face close to mine. “Don’t play games with me, darlin’. You won’t win.” I speak the words so close that she can feel my breath on her lips. She blinks at me but registers no fear. I’m fucked. I’d let her win every day of the week.
Chapter Sixteen
Giovanna
“Do you want me to come in, boss?” Bluey asks as we pull up outsidePeacocks. It is a discreet building of black glass with entirely indiscreet large purple lettering spelling out the name of our establishment adorning the front side. A huge peacock tail fans open behind the letters.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36 (Reading here)
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140