Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1) (12 page)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

Evangeline

“Here’s the broom.”

I moved through the living room, my gaze pinned to Gian’s back. He held the brick in one hand and a hammer in the other.

Gian whirled around, anger and hostility vibrating from him. Truthfully, his intensity scared me a little bit. Not wanting to move any closer to him, I paused, my heart beating frantically.

He lifted his chin. “Do you know anything about the Russian mafia?”

I leaned the broom against the wall, and it slid to the floor with a loud clunk, making me flinch. “No. Why?”

“Just wondering.” He flipped the front of the brick toward me, his amber eyes rife with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Vor’s Property” was written across the brick in black letters with a five-point star bookending either side.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s not important.” He dropped the hammer on the entry table, the metal thumping against the white lacquered surface. “I think we’re good. We can clean up the glass tomorrow.”

I glanced at the plywood covering the glass panel on the top half of the door and then the glass littering the floor. “Are you sure? It will only take me a minute.”

“Yes. I don’t want to think about this any more tonight. I had a shitty night, and that was
before
I got home.”

I scoured his face, searching for clues, only I didn’t see any. I saw hunger mixed with a whole lot of uncertainty. “What’s wrong?”

Gian pressed his fingers to my lips. “Not now.”

His fingers slotted through mine, and he guided me wordlessly up the stairs. I followed, more than a little anxious from the volatile energy zipping around us like a storm on the horizon. With every thump of our footsteps on the stairs, my anxiety soared higher and higher. He bypassed the second floor, leading me straight to his bedroom. Images of last night freeze-framed inside my brain.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for me to sleep—?”

His mouth crashed against mine, kissing me single-mindedly and with enough passion to set me ablaze. His hands snaked around my hips, hauling me tightly against him. He guided me backward until my thighs bumped into the side of the mattress.

I broke our kiss. His throat bobbed heavily, and he looked at me through hooded lids, his eyes generating enough power to light up the Brooklyn Bridge.

“What are you doing to me?” I whispered, more to myself than him because I was powerless to deny him anything from the moment I met him.

His fingers curled around the hem of my camisole, and he yanked it over my head.

“Cute.” He tugged on the baby pink bow at the heart of my black lace bralette, his thumbs brushing across my nipples, soft and gentle. His barely-there touches elicited sparks of pleasure in my core. I glanced up, and my belly somersaulted when I saw the look on his face.

Lust. Desire. Passion.

I gasped for breath. It was official. I was a mistake magnet. Put a bad choice in my path, and I gravitated toward it like I’d discovered a unicorn standing next to a pot of gold under a friggin’ rainbow.

“Look at me,” he whispered, and like a dummy on strings, I met his stare again. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight streaming in from the overhead skylight. He buried his hands in my hair, and a faint twinge of pain nipped at my scalp. “I don’t want your mind anywhere else except on me.”

He lowered me to the bed. “Take off your pants,” he ordered, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head.

I shimmied my tight yoga pants and panties down my legs, stopping only to gape at him when he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the floor. Next went his shirt. With every button he flicked open, he revealed another inch of his golden skin. My heart drummed faster and faster, and the air seemed to thicken, cocooning us in our own world.

“You look fucking beautiful sprawled out on my bed with pink cheeks, parted lips, and your heavy eyes.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His pants pooled on the floor, and his belt buckle jingled. I barely blinked twice, and his body had already covered mine. He pulled my nipple into his mouth, sucking, licking, and grazing the sensitive bud.

His tongue leisurely flicked over my nipple, and I arched my back. The chilly breeze from the fan wafted over my skin. Less than a second later, his hot mouth pressed against the top of my breast, sucking hard. Lifting his head, he grinned at the little red mark dotting my pale skin.

“Nice,” he mumbled.

I didn’t object, because a little part of me liked the idea of him branding me as his if only temporarily.

His hand snaked between our bodies, his fingers moving with confidence over my already slick flesh. He found my opening, sank one finger deep inside of me, and I shuddered, my inner walls tightening in an entreaty for more.

Gian swore under his breath, and I could smell a hint of wine on his breath. He withdrew his finger and guided the broad head of his penis into place.

His lambent gaze collided with mine. “Can’t wait,” he said, his voice a wicked growl.

With one violent flex of his hips, he surged into me. I stiffened, my breath quickening. My fists knotted in the duvet cover beneath me.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” The rumbling timbre of his voice ignited a full body shiver that sunk deep into my bones.

He pulled back and then slid in again a fraction, rocking against me, moving deeper little by little with every micro-thrust until he was exactly where I needed him to be. My hands curled into the rope-like muscles lining his spine. The headboard banged against the wall. Sweat glistened on his brow. His hair stuck up, and his teeth were clamped together. Our moans morphed into one heady sound.

Every stray thought evaporated, and I could only think about him and the way he felt inside of me. My entire body sang with a pleasure so devastatingly perfect I feared I’d spontaneously combust.

I panted, desperate for the release building with every second. His name tumbled from my lips along with a hundred other disjointed thoughts, each one more lurid in my mind than in expression.

I slid my hands up his back to his neck, pulling his lips against mine, needing to taste him, needing to be connected in every way possible. I gasped when our lips separated, and he nipped my bottom lip. I bucked beneath him, my nails digging into his scalp. I was close. So close. I felt him everywhere.

My legs shuddered. My hands tingled. My skin prickled. My toes curled. Before I could break down every spine-tingling sensation, I shattered into a million pieces. My eyes pinching closed, I rode the waves of pleasure speeding through me until my muscles unwound bit-by-bit.

Seconds later, Gian collapsed on me, the course smatterings of hair on his chest rubbing against my nipples and his hips surging into me with enough force that I slid up the bed with every thrust. He grunted out my full name as he came, the four syllables echoing off the vaulted ceiling like a benediction.

My senses came back to me piecemeal, as if I were awakening from a long, drug-induced sleep.

I felt him inside of me. I felt the heavy weight of his body over mine, the pounding of his heart against my chest, the sheen of sweat coating our bodies. And I felt content. Better than content. I was
happy
.

The second the thought took root, regret reared its ugly head, creeping into the fissures of my already wounded heart. As fast as the emotion materialized, I mentally beat it back with a stick. I was living in the moment tonight and for the foreseeable future because all my plotting and planning hadn’t got me anywhere noteworthy.

I ruffled my fingers through his hair, and he groaned, rolling off me. When he opened his mouth to say something, I pressed my fingers to his lips and shook my head. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to hear his thoughts. I didn’t want to think. I curled my body around his, sliding my leg up over his, and pretended fate was on my side and everything would work out the way it was meant to.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

Gian

A sharp
thud
sounded at the door to my office at my club. I slammed my laptop closed and rubbed a hand down the side of my face. It’d been a week since the brick incident and that ridiculous car chase on the way home from my engagement party, and I still didn’t have a single fucking lead. I didn’t know if the two incidents were connected. I didn’t know the players or their motivations. While the strain of not knowing what was going on was annoying at first, it had grown to the point where it felt like a goddamn monkey I couldn’t get off my back.

“Come in.”

Nico strutted into my office like he owned the place, with his dark hair slicked back and some dumbass double-breasted pinstriped suit that made him look like a 1920s gangster. What a fool. He slid into the chair in front of my desk and hooked his ankle on the opposite knee.

He called earlier wanting to discuss some shit. I assumed it had to do with crap happening in my life, so I agreed. I was desperate. Sal had torn Brighton Beach apart looking for clues and called in half a dozen favors that led absolutely nowhere. And Tony…well, he hadn’t found out anything about the black SUV either, which wasn’t unexpected. Rumor had it, he spent most of his time digging into Evie’s background rather than the stuff I asked him to do. I didn’t understand what Dominick expected to find. She was raised on a fucking cornfield in Nebraska. What could be so sinister about that?

“How’s it going?”

I waved my hand at the door. “Shut the fucking door.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m waiting for Carlo. He’s meeting us here.”

“Carlo? What the fuck do we need with him?”

“He has information you might want to hear.”

Carlo was a lazy, entitled prick. I couldn’t imagine he had much to add to the conversation. On the off chance he did, he should have brought it to
my
attention, not Nico’s. I was his capo. He had no right to go around me.

“Does he need to hold your hand while he talks to me now? Is that why he brought you into this?”

Nico braced his elbows on the desk, his gold and onyx cufflinks glinting in the overhead lights. “He brought me in as a witness.”

“A witness.” I stabbed my hand in my hair. “I can’t wait. This is going to be good.”

His lips thinned. “You’ll want to hear what he has to say.”

Heaving a sigh, I leaned back in my chair. “Yeah, I bet.”

“Your lack of respect is getting old.”

“You know I’m right. Carlo is a lazy piece of shit. That’s exactly why Dominick promoted me and not him.”

Nico shot me a warning look. “Doesn’t matter. You need to inspire the loyalty of the people under you or you’re not doing your job, and you can kiss your new role goodbye. You’ll be
broken
.”

My eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me?”

He shrugged. “Just calling it how I see it.”

“Hey, man.” Carlo sauntered into my office three minutes later, his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets and a shiny bluish silver tie around neck that clashed with his ruddy nose.

I tipped up my chin, staring at him, my face blank, emotionless, but I felt a helluva a lot of something.

Rage. Anger. Frustration. Hate.

All of it roared through me with the force of a hurricane. I clutched the arms of my chair so I didn’t wrap my hands around his scrawny neck and strangle the life out of his worthless ass.

Nico waved at the chair next to him. “Have a seat, Carlo.”

Carlo sidled up to the chair with a shit-eating grin on his face. I had to do something about him because he’d made it clear there was only room for one of us in the Trassato family. He wanted my job, and he’d do anything do get it, including making an unholy alliance with Nico, the only other person in this family that wouldn’t mind if I got clipped.

“Let’s get on with this. I have another meeting.” I stood, trying to establish the upper hand and take control of the meeting. If Carlo had something to say, he’d do it on my terms, not his or Nico’s. “Carlo, Nico told me you have some information for me.”

Carlo’s beady eyes shifted to the side, clearly seeking Nico’s approval to speak. Nico dipped his head, giving him permission. What an ass licker.

“I heard the Russians aren’t happy with you.”

I swiped my fingertips along the top of my desk as I strolled alongside it. “Really? And how’d you come by this little gem of information?”

He shifted in his seat. “I was playing cards with one of the guys from Matteo’s crew. He told me.”

Matteo was another capo who let the Russians push drugs in his territory for a taste of the profit.

“Is that all you’ve got? We all know Russians are always complaining about something. This isn’t new.”

“Maybe you should cut a deal with them and put all this shit behind you,” Nico suggested. “You don’t need any more distractions. We might be able to get the boss on board if we get some money out of it.”

“No.” I slammed my open palm on the desk. “My dad refused to work with them, and I won’t either. They’re like bloodsucking leeches. They never stop pushing, and they’re completely untrustworthy. Their promises aren’t worth the air that comes out of their mouths.”

The Russians were amoral bastards. Unlike us, they didn’t have any problems taking out anyone. No one was sacred. Not cops, not prosecutors, and journalists could kiss their collective asses goodbye if the Russians didn’t like them. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past one of those fuckers to
shoot someone simply to see if his gun was well lubricated.

Nico sat in front of me like a king on a throne. Judging. Weighing. Watching.

“They’re going to keep pushing because you’re young and untested. They see you as the weak link. Maybe you could give them something and they’ll back off.” When I started to shake my head, he held up his hand, indicating he wasn’t finished. “
It's good business, Gian. We don’t want a war with the Russians. We already spent the last year fighting the DiTonnos because of the bullshit that went down with Rocco.
”

My stomach lurched. I hated thinking about Rocco. It gutted me to see how my sister had become a shell of her former self after he died. Sure, she still gave me shit and acted like she was fine, but she was my twin. I could sense she was still torn apart by his death.

“You think they were behind the car chase, not only the brick.” I knew they had something to do with the brick. The word
Vor
was a term used by the Russian mafia that meant “Thief-in-Law.”

“It makes sense,” Carlo said, a reptilian grin cutting across his face like he actually had more than two brain cells in his head.

What I wouldn’t give to wipe that fucking smile off his face…

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion,” I sneered at Carlo.

Carlo’s shoulders stiffened, and he raised his eyebrows like a condescending fuck. He stood up to leave, stopping only to rap his knuckles against the top of the desk. “Fine. Whatever you want, Gian. Let me know if you need anything.”

I glared at his retreating back as his cocky ass strutted out the door. If Nico weren’t in the room, I’d seriously consider pumping a couple of bullets through his knees solely for shits and grins.

Nico stood and the wooden legs of the chair scraped across the tiled floor. “How’s the fiancée?”

I gritted my teeth. I didn’t want him sticking his nose in my personal life. He had already inserted his opinion into every decision I made as a capo. “Perfect. Couldn’t be better.”

It was the truth. Evie slept in my bed every night. She shared a cup of coffee with me every morning. Nothing about what we were doing felt fake, and my sorry ass couldn’t get enough of her. Her graceful movements consumed me. I couldn’t be in the same room with her without wanting to get lost in her. Her taste. Her sweet, flawless skin. Her mile-long legs. The list of things I liked about her grew every day, which was novel for me.

“Good. Good.” He strummed his fingers against his thigh. “Tony dug up some stuff on her ex.”

“Oh?” My gut soured.

“Yeah. Turns out he was hooking up with some slut with connections to the Russian mafia when your girl broke things off with him.”

“
Was
hooking up? As in they’re done?”

“Yep.” He cupped his chin between his index finger and his thumb. “She didn’t stick around for more than a week after your girl walked.”

My thoughts were deafening as the implications whirled inside my head. Dread throbbed inside me. It could be a coincidence. I couldn’t wrap my head around any other scenario that made sense because what went on between her ex and that woman happened before I entered the picture.

I pushed back my shoulders, standing taller, my arms locked behind my back. “Yeah, well, let me worry about my fiancée and her ex.”

Nico open his mouth for a second like he didn’t have any intention of letting this go, but he closed it without saying anything. Seconds ticked by, the pumping of music from the club giving life to the testosterone filling my office.

“I know for a fact your uncle won’t pull Tony off this. You know how he is when he gets his mind set on something, and right now that something is Evie.” He rubbed his fingers along his jaw to emphasize the reference to Dominick. “Let me be straight with you. He doesn’t like the way this looks, and I can’t say I disagree. Something stinks.”

My hands trembled with fury, and I stuffed them into my pockets. “I wouldn’t expect anything else. You gotta do what’s best for the family.”