Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #3)(30)

The idea sent a new spike of wrath through me and I quickly released her before I lost control. I slid off her and sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to ignore the look of surprise and shock crossing her face. I glared at the floor, clenching and unclenching my hands. If Carmine hadn’t killed the f*cker, I would probably have done it. I still wanted to do it, wanted to slice the part of his brain out that harbored the memory of Gianna’s body under him.

Gianna sat up slowly, carefully as if she thought I might attack if she moved too fast. “Aren’t you going to rape and torture me?”

I almost laughed. That’s what everyone expected. Most men in our world even thought she deserved it. I turned to her, my gaze tracing her beautiful face. Even more beautiful than my memory had made me believe, even now when she was pale and her eyes were puffy from tears.

“Did you think I would?” I asked in a surprisingly calm voice. Some of my anger was suddenly gone that she was watching me with her wide blue eyes.

“Yes. My father’s men definitely thought you would. Didn’t you see their expressions? They probably hope that you’ll give them a go at me once you’re done with me.”

Of course, they’d told me so numerous times while we’d been on the hunt. I knew what they thought was happening right now. Fuck, part of me wished they were right. I wasn’t a good guy. “I don’t give a f*ck about your father’s men, and I don’t give a f*ck about your father. And if they lay a single finger on you, I’m going to kill them. They won’t hurt you, nobody will.”

Her brows crinkled. “Once I’m back in Chicago, Father will punish me.”

Did she really think I’d hand her over to her * of a father? I hadn’t hunted her for sixth months only to give her up. I smirked. “You aren’t going back to Chicago, Gianna. You are coming to New York with me.”

Hope and relief crossed her face. “To Aria? Is she alright? Did she get in trouble because she helped me?”

Somehow her response annoyed me. “Aria is fine,” I said, before I stood and walked toward the window. I kept my back to her when I asked, “That guy, did you love him?”

I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she said ‘yes’. I couldn’t hurt that f*cker anymore, and I didn’t want to hurt her, so what could I do? Kill someone else, preferably the two *s from the Outfit who’d been grating on my nerves for too long, and maybe while I was at it, I’d kill her f*cking father the next time I saw him.

“Sid?” she asked in a shaky voice, and I almost lost it right then. I scowled at her over my shoulder. Her eyes were actually moist with f*cking tears.

“I don’t care what his name was,” I growled.

Fuck, I wanted to kill that guy so badly. I’d have paid a billion dollars if there were a way to resurrect the *, only so I could kill him again. Slowly, painfully.

“His name was Sid,” she said stubbornly, a familiar glint returning to her eyes.

She still hadn’t answered my question. “Did you love him?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. “I barely knew him.” I would have rejoiced if she hadn’t started biting her lower lip like she was fighting tears. She looked f*cking sad and then a tear slid out of her left eye. She blinked a few times.

“If you didn’t love him, then why are you crying?”

She glared. Glared, as if she was the one with reason to be angry. “You really don’t know?”

“I’m a Made Man, Gianna. I’ve seen many people die, have killed many myself.” And right now I wanted to kill again more than anything else in the world.

“Sid didn’t deserve to die. He died because of me. He never did anything wrong.”

What the f*ck? Really? “He touched the wrong girl. He died for touching what wasn’t his to touch.”

Gianna shook her head. “You wanted to kill him yourself, didn’t you? That’s why you stopped Stan? Not because you wanted to spare Sid’s life.”

Did that really come as a surprise to her? For someone who was convinced I and every other member of the mob were monsters, she seemed oddly surprised by my desire to kill the * who’d pawed at my fiancée.

Before I could reply, my phone rang. Luca’s name flashed on my screen. I had only sent him a short text while I was in the car. He’d tried calling me but except for a quick talk to the pilot of our private jet, I hadn’t been in the mood to speak to anyone, but knowing Luca he wouldn’t give up. Stifling a groan, I picked up, turning away from Gianna again.

“A text with ‘I got her’, that’s all I get from you?” he said angrily.

“I was busy.”

I could hear Aria’s high voice in the background, but thankfully Luca didn’t put her on. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to a hysterical woman, least of all the woman who’d helped my fiancée escape in the first place. It was early morning in New York, couldn’t Luca have let his wife sleep in for once?

“With what?” He paused. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to f*cking know.”

“Did he hurt her?” Aria asked loud enough for me to hear.

I didn’t say anything.

Luca lowered his voice. “Is she alive?”

“Fuck you.”