CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

GIANNA

M y father stares back at me and I can't read his mind, which makes me both irritated and a little worried.

"Don't you think it's all a bit of a coincidence?" I ask.

He glances away for a moment, and I give him time to take in what I've just told him.

He's either going to think I'm an idiot or right.

I'm not sure myself.

"We looked into him," Papa says. "Thoroughly."

I slump back into my seat. "Do you know how many guys hit on me just to get to you? Braxton was smart. He used reverse psychology."

The snarl on his face tells me that was a bad move.

Really bad.

"Gianna. I don't want to hear about my men going near my daughter. Speak to your mother about that. In fact, give me names and I'll—"

Talk about missing the point.

"Papa, listen. Braxton gets a deal with you and now he's suddenly leaving. Don't you think there's something wrong with that?"

"Leaving?"

I nod.

"He has a business to run. Braxton has been clear he's independent. This deal is important to the family. Gianna, you are to marry Leo. Perhaps him leaving is a good thing."

I throw my arms up.

No one ever fucking listens to me.

"When did he say he was leaving? Frank, she might be onto something," Mama says from the doorway, and I spin around.

How long was she standing there?

I look between them. "He didn't say. There was just a..."

Damn. I haven't thought this through. I don't have any solid evidence or more than a feeling to go on.

No wonder they don't listen to me.

What am I going to say? Trust my instincts.

Good one.

"Look, doesn't it sound dodgy to you? Mia Barrett suddenly invites me for a drink and this friend of theirs shows up. Then he has a shipment fall through and needs financing."

My father shoots a look toward my mother, frowning, but he's paying attention now.

Finally.

"We went to their place for dinner last night and something was off. I don't know how to explain it," I add, but even though I still feel as if I'm missing something, a sense of unease fills me.

A different one.

"You think he is working for Barrett?" Papa asks, shaking his head at me. "Connor Barrett is straight down the middle. He met his wife because Mancini was stupid enough to let his daughter work outside la famiglia ."

"How do you know that?" I ask, surprised that he does.

"It's my business to know everything."

Good point, but I'm still surprised. Then again, everyone is up in everyone's business in these mafia families. Especially the daughters and who they are fraternizing with. I have no doubt that everyone knows I'm sleeping with some contractor my father is now in partnership with.

Even if it has just been a few days.

"I know I can't be with Braxton. He knows that too. Which I assume is because you told him." I lean my head on my fist and let out a sigh. "God, maybe I'm going crazy. I think I love him."

"I can have him killed." Papa shrugs, but I see the sparkle in his eyes.

Mama snickers.

"No, don't you dare." I giggle. "Don't joke about that."

"Then what, mia princepessa ?" Papa says, glancing at my mother. "Angela take your daughter and do all this female talk elsewhere. You should be preparing for a wedding in a few months."

I feel myself pale.

It's the closest he's come to telling me what Dante did recently.

The wedding is mine. To Leo.

I don't bother arguing as Mama walks into the office and stands behind my chair. Something is still bothering me, so I try one last time.

I love my family and if the man I have fallen in love with means my family harm, I have to speak up. Italians are known for their loyalty.

Mafia is deadly loyal.

"Papa, I don't think we can trust him," I say, as a chill blasts through my heart.

I think I just signed Braxton's death warrant.

"Ring Dante." Mama says and there's a darkness to her voice. "I have had the same sense about him.

" Cazzo ." He curses, then waves out at one of his guards. "Get the car. We'll go out there and see for ourselves."

"Please do not kill him," I plead as I climb out of my seat.

"If he's betrayed me, you know how these things work," Papa says. "Go. Both of you. Gianna, you are to marry Leo Bandoni. I have agreed with his father. After this, the sooner the better."

My eyes fill with tears as Mama leads me out of his office. There is nothing more to say. Except now I'm not sure I've done the right thing at all.

I've never been more confused in my life.

"Let's get a drink, sweetheart," Mama says.

"No." I shake her off and run back upstairs to my room.

I pace the floor, staring at my phone a dozen times before I hear my father's car pull up out front.

Panic fills me and I start shaking.

What have I done?

Oh god, I can't let him kill Braxton.

I can't.

I love him.

As my fingers tremble, I try to dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

I try again.

Then again.

Then again.

Shit.

I hear Papa's car start to drive along the gravel drive. Oh god, he's going to kill him. Because of me .

I pull on my jacket, grab my bag, and run downstairs where I rip open the cupboard holding all the vehicle keys. Then race through the house to the garage and slide into a gunmetal gray Bugatti.

Braxton would love this car, I think to myself as I fire it up. I rarely drive, but I know how and I love fast cars. It's why watching him drive the Ferrari was always such a turn-on.

I press the button that opens the garage door and rev the engine. I skid the tires as I exit; the gates close behind my father's car.

Rolling down the window, I wave at the guards, and they quickly open them for me.

"Thank you!" I wave as they stare at me like they know they just made a big mistake. But I'm not a prisoner and they have no right to stop me.

My phone rings. It's James. Shit.

I answer.

"Where the hell are you going, Gianna?!" He yells through the phone.

"With Papa. I'll be fine," I reply and hang up as he starts cursing.

I'm not sure it will be fine, but I caused this mess and I need to clean it up. If I get there before it's too late.

I try Braxton's phone a few more times and then floor it to keep up with my father's driver, but not too close that they'll see me.

I have no idea where we are going.

But my possibly unreliable instincts tell me I've just caused a whole lot of trouble.

Forgive me, Braxton.

I'm so damn sorry.