Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1)
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

Gian

 

I paced back and forth at the foot of the bed in my childhood home. The plush tan carpet swallowed the sound of my black wingtips. This was a disaster. Evie fucking fainted in front of the entire family. She really knew how to clear out a party. Unfortunately, my mom now had it in her head that Evie was pregnant.

“I really am sorry, Gian. I didn’t do it intentionally.” Evie sat with her back to the headboard and her knees curled against her chest. “I don’t know what happened. Your uncle’s speech freaked me out, and I didn’t eat all day. Then, I don’t know…” She swallowed. “Did I screw everything up? I feel like a total loser.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into my arms without saying anything. I wanted to make sure she was really okay. When she swayed forward, my heart nearly burst through my fucking ribcage. I rocked her, comforting her and myself. It never failed. Every time something happened to her, a weird feeling bubbled up in my chest, compelling me to protect her from everything bad in the world. The urge was preposterous because by anyone’s definition I was the big black wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“What’s your definition of screwed up?” I asked after a few moments.

Her shoulders slumped, and she rested her forehead against the top of my shoulder. “I heard what your mom said. She thinks you’re marrying me because I’m pregnant.”

“I told her it wasn’t true.”

She lifted her head. Her eyes were glassy like she wanted to cry, but she had some color in her cheeks again, which was better than nothing. “Does she believe you?”

“She will eventually.” I wiped my hand over my lips. “She won’t have any choice when our engagement ends and you’re not showing.”

She stared at me for a second, and then the corner of her lips started twitching.

“What?”

Laughter burst from her lips, her back shaking beneath my fingers. “This is really funny if you think about it.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”

“She. Thinks. I’m. Pregnant,” she said between bouts of laughter.

“Yeah, so?”

“Of all the secrets we’re hiding, she comes up with a pregnancy to explain my behavior and our sudden engagement. It couldn’t be further from the truth. You’ve never touched me. Hell, you don’t even like me.”

“Oh, Evie, that’s where you’re wrong.” I traced a line from her mid-calf to her upper thigh. Her legs would be the death of me. When she came out of her room wearing this little shift dress that stopped mid-thigh, I wanted to send her back to her room to change. “I like you enough to make this situation dangerous for both of us.”

Her eyes flared. “What? I thought—”

A knock on the door interrupted her, and I fleetingly wondered whether it would be a bad thing to lock the bedroom door and rip that dress over her head. What I wouldn’t give to feel her melt beneath my fingertips and drink in her moans like a glass of Chianti Classico. I climbed off the bed, removing myself from the temptation to do exactly that.

“Come in,” I said, looking at anything other than the beautiful woman sitting on my childhood bed.

Carmela cracked open the door. “I wanted to check on Evie. How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks for asking.” Evie stretched out her legs and crossed her ankles. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t eat much today, and I’ve been training really hard. I’m so embarrassed. Your family probably thinks I’m crazy.”

“Pregnant, not crazy.” Carmela laughed. “You don’t have anything you want to tell me, do you?”

“Oh my God, no.” Evie waved her hands in the air. “Please tell me you don’t believe that.”

Carmela’s lips thinned. “I don’t think you’re pregnant, but I do think you two are hiding something.”

“Carmela, don’t start with that again,” I warned.

Carmela held up her hand. “I have no intention of getting into that right now. I know neither of you will tell me anything. And besides, Dominick is waiting for you. He wants to talk to you before he takes off.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I nodded. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

I exited the room without looking back.

When I got downstairs, I said, “Hey, Dominick. What’s going on?” I patted him on the shoulder with one hand and shook his hand with the other.

“I have some stuff to take care of. I trust everything is okay with your girl?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. I think she was a little overwhelmed.”

“She seems like a nice girl. But let’s be frank here: she’s not one of us. She’ll never be one of us. If today showed us anything, it’s that she’ll never fit in. She’ll be a liability from today until the day she dies.”

I forced my face to remain a blank mask despite the anger surging through me. Losing my temper or lashing out at Dominick wouldn’t help Evie or me. “When have I ever done anything to jeopardize the family or you? I wouldn’t bring someone into this family who I didn’t trust. Who I didn’t think would be an asset.”

“I know, I know, but have you thought this through? From what I heard, she wants to be an actress on Broadway. With any luck, she’ll reach some level of notoriety. Then you know what happens?” He lifted his hands, his ruby ring glinting off the overhead light of the chandelier. “People will start looking at you. That will inevitability lead people back to the family and me. I know you don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t need any light shining on us. We’re finally gaining some ground now that the FBI and those jackoffs at the Department of Homeland Security are focused on terrorism instead of us.”

Staring at the floor, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What are you saying? You want me to end the engagement?”

“Gianluca, I promoted you because you have a knack for making difficult decisions, not because your dad wanted it. You’ll figure out what to do.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I heard she’s seen some stuff.”

My head snapped up. “Who told you that?”

He scratched the side of his face. “It doesn’t matter who told me. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t mention it.”

Fucking Carlo.
I knew I couldn’t trust him. With soldiers like him, I didn’t need enemies. I had to convince Dominick to assign him to some other unsuspecting capo. “Since when have you wanted to micromanage every detail? You don’t need to worry about Evangeline. Ya’ gotta know, I have this under control.”

Dominick pinned me with his dark stare. Then, he lifted his chin. “All right. I’ll let you take care of this for now, but know that the day might come when you need to make a tough call. Until then, I need to know you’ll make the
right
choice. You’ll protect this thing of ours.”

I bowed my head. “Yeah, you know I will.”

He slapped me on the shoulder. “Good. You’re better than some of those other young turks.”

I flinched. Young turks was what he called the younger, less traditional generation of Mafiosi. The older guys looked down on us. They believed we were more inclined to break the old rules.
In my mind, it was a direct slight.

“Yeah. Yeah. I need to get back to Evie.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

Evangeline

 

I stared at Gian from the corner of my eye as he navigated the Sunday evening traffic. He hadn’t said much of anything since he spoke with his uncle. At dinner, he answered every inquiry with as little information as possible, and he pushed us out the door the minute I finished my dessert.

“Dinner was wonderful. Your mom’s a good cook. I can’t believe how much food she made. She could’ve fed the entire neighborhood.” I toyed the folds of my dress. “I kind of feel guilty that she did all that when we’re just…you know.”

“Don’t worry about it. She likes to entertain,” he answered, glancing in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I guess. What did your uncle want?”

He frowned, his fingers tapping impatiently against the center console. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I fainted.” I squared my shoulders. “For the record, tonight was the first time that happened, so you don’t need to worry about bringing me in public.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Uh-huh.”

“Gian, what’s the matter? Are you mad at me? Did I ruin everything?” I cataloged my conversations at dinner. “Did I say something stupid? Your family hated me, didn’t they?”

My shoulders drooped under the weight of the self-created disasters infecting my life. Gian’s dad had said exactly five words to me all night—“It’s nice to meet you.”

Dinner conversation wasn’t much better. His uncle’s early departure set the tone of the celebration. Clearly, he found me wanting, and everyone else agreed with his assessment. Everyone bowed and scraped around him like he was some sort of king. The instant that thought floated through my mind, the pieces of the puzzle clicked together, refusing to be buried under layers of excuses any longer.

Dominick wasn’t merely Gian’s uncle—he was the head of the Trassato crime family. The same one people whispered about in hushed murmurs with an equal measure of awe and disgust. While Gian and Carmela had never confirmed or denied anything, the writing was on the wall.

Panic wrapped around my ribcage like a tourniquet. A gust of air whooshed out of my lungs. Needles of fear pricked at my skin like thousands of poison-tipped arrows. The thudding of my heart drowned out the sound of the radio.

Holy shit.

No.

No.

No.

This isn’t real.

Trembling, I covered my mouth with my hand.

“Evie, are you listening to me?” Gian’s voice snapped me out of the ocean of tragedy I’d been drowning in.

“What?” I rotated toward him. One hand white-knuckled the steering wheel while the other clawed at his hair. His eyes glittered with menace. His lips were pinched. “What’s wrong?”

“Open the fucking glove box and hand me the gun.”

My stomach twisted into a knot. “The gun? What do you need a—”

His body bristling with violence, he slammed his hand against the dash, and I flinched. “Dammit! Don’t question me. Just do what I ask for once.”

Unable to get my hands to cooperate, I fumbled with the latch on the glove box.

“Make this stop,” I pleaded to no one in particular.

A car hit our bumper. A loud crash echoed through my ears, and my neck whipped forward, then backward, slamming against the headrest.

Gian shoved my head down and flipped open the glove box. The shiny metal of the gun blurred through the air like a shooting star. I pinched my eyes shut. My muscles tensed, anticipating. Dreading. Fearing.

Bang.

The rear driver’s side window shattered. Glass showered the top of my head.

Bang.

Engines revved, and my heart escalated right along with it.

Bang.

Tires squealed.

A loud, piercing noise echoed through the car, and it took me a second to realize I was screaming. I slapped a hand over my mouth, not wanting to call attention to myself. With my head braced against my thighs, I stared blankly out the window, peering at the smattering of stars playing peek-a-boo with the heavily clouded night sky.

The car whipped around the corner, and my butt slid across the seat. My shoulder bumped into the leather-upholstered door. The second I lifted my head, Gian sideswiped a parked car. The side mirror exploded into tiny shards of glass. They glittered like diamond dust in the moonlight.

“Stay down!” he yelled, shoving my head down again.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my heart hammering hard enough to split open my ribcage.

“Exactly what you think.” He tossed his phone in my lap. “Call Tony. He’s in my favorites.”

The phone slipped out of my hand and fell to the floorboard. Blindly searching, my hand scoured the rubber floor mat. The seatbelt bit into my flesh with every twist and turn. Finally, the tips of my fingers brushed against the solid rectangle. I lifted it, slid my finger across the screen and called Tony.

One ring.

Two rings.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Evie.” My voice sounded like I had swallowed a cup of acid.

The car hopped up on the curb, and we narrowly missed a stop sign. My teeth clacked together, grazing the tip of my tongue when Gian yanked the steering wheel to the right and off the sidewalk. I clutched the side panel on the door, the coppery taste of blood hitting my tongue.

“Evie? Evie? Are you still there?”

“Yeah. Somebody shot at us and crashed into Gian’s car.”

“What the fuck?” he yelled. “Where are you guys?”

“Tell him to meet us at my house in twenty minutes,” Gian said, his gaze zigzagging between the road in front of us and the rear view mirror.

“Did you hear what he said, Tony?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m on it.” When the line went dead, I dropped the phone into my lap. A warm liquid trickled down my hand. Transfixed, I stared at the blood dripping from my fingers. It looked like ink in the dim light of the car.

Gian’s hand swept over the top of my hair. “I think we lost them. You can sit up now.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I stared sightlessly at my hand, my breaths choppy and my mind blank. Tears dripped from my chin, and I realized I was crying.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I jerked my head rather than answering because there was no simple answer. My mind buzzed with too many jumbled emotions to communicate.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the two car garage on the garden level of Gian’s home, and I finally sat up. I blinked, cataloguing every fear and pain. My body ached, and nausea and uncertainty clawed at me, spreading through me like a slow drip IV.

The passenger door opened, and I still didn’t move.

“Come on, sweetheart. We’re safe now.” Gian circled one arm around my shoulder and the other under my knees. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent like it was the antidote for everything that ailed me.

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