Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #3)(70)

I shrugged. I didn’t give a f*ck. Gianna was my wife and I’d f*ck her whenever I felt like it. “We’ve been gone for a while. They’re probably suspecting already.”

“Great,” Gianna muttered but then she squared her shoulders and headed back to the tables with the other guests without another glance in my direction. So we were back to playing games?

***

That night I woke to an empty bed. I jumped to my feet, and searched the room for a sign of Gianna, but she wasn’t there. How could she have run? I didn’t bother putting on pants. Grabbing my gun holster on the way I stormed out of the room and into the living room.

I had to call Luca and tell him. He’d be furious. He hadn’t been happy when I’d removed Gianna’s ankle monitor. My eyes made out a slender figure in an armchair close to the window. Gianna.

I relaxed and discarded my gun holster on a sideboard before I crossed the room toward her. She must have pushed the armchair closer to the window so she could look out. Her legs were pressed up against her chest and her face rested on her knees. She was fast asleep. But even in sleep her brows were drawn together. I wasn’t sure but she looked as if she’d cried. I stopped beside her, staring down at her sleeping form. She must have moved very quietly for me not to hear her. I was a light sleeper. She’d even managed to put on pajamas. My gaze darted to the elevator console. Had she tried to crack the code and escape? The alarm would have alerted me to any attempts, and yet the suspicion remained. I hated that I didn’t trust her. It wasn’t as if I was used to trusting people, except for Luca, but I wanted to trust my wife. Of course it was difficult to develop trust when Gianna didn’t even have the chance to prove herself.

If I gave her more freedom, and she didn’t try to run, then I could start trusting her, but I had a feeling I’d never see her again if I did. I was too selfish and possessive. I didn’t want to lose her, even if that was what was best for her. My eyes returned to her face and the sadness that seemed to be edged into it.

I slipped my hands under her body and lifted her into my arms. She didn’t wake as I carried her back into our bedroom, back where I wanted her and where she belonged, but where she didn’t want to be.

I put her down on the bed, but I didn’t lie down next to her. I was too angry at myself for my wimpy thoughts. What did it matter if Gianna wanted to be my wife? What did it matter if she’d rather return to Munich and find some other idiot like Sid? She was mine and I wasn’t a good guy. I didn’t give a damn about other people’s feelings. I felt on the edge, like I needed to hit something to get a grip. With a growl, I grabbed my gym clothes, put them on, grabbed my car keys and left the apartment.

I punched the code into the elevator panel and rode it down into the parking garage. I mounted my motorcycle, shot out of the garage and raced through the city toward our gym. Apart from a guard, it was deserted, which was a pity because I would have loved to actually spar with someone, instead of a f*cking dummy.

I didn’t bother with boxing gloves. I wanted to feel every hit. Facing the dummy, I started pummeling it, alternating between kicks and punches.

I was still at it when the gym started filling up with familiar faces. Nobody disturbed me. Apart from a short nod, they stayed the f*ck away from me. They all knew what was good for them.

“Trying to kill a poor dummy?” came Luca’s drawl.

I landed another hard kick against the head before I turned around to my brother. He wasn’t wearing gym clothes. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you weren’t there when I came to pick you up in your apartment this morning.”

“You went into my apartment while I wasn’t there?”

Luca rolled his eyes. “I didn’t touch your wife, but I left Aria and Romero with her.”

I nodded, trying to calm the f*ck down. I was still on edge. I wasn’t even sure why.

“Take a shower and get dressed. You look like you need a drink,” Luca said in his Capo voice.

I didn’t protest. I felt like a truck had run me over. I must have been in the gym for hours. It was already light outside. Luca and I went to one of our dance clubs. Except for the cleaning ladies, it was still deserted. I grabbed a whiskey bottle from the shelf, and Luca and I settled at the bar. In most social circles it was probably considered too early for alcohol. Luckily we didn’t have to obey those stupid rules.

Luca and I emptied our glasses, then he fixed me with his big-brother-stare. “So what’s going on? Are you already growing tired of your obnoxious wife?”

I downed another glass of whiskey, waiting for the familiar burning to turn into warmth that spread in my chest. “Why do you ask?”

Luca cocked one eyebrow. “Maybe because you prefer spending the night in a sweaty gym than in bed with your young wife.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“And you couldn’t come up with something more entertaining to do than kickboxing a dummy?”

“You’re starting to grate on my nerves,” I said.

Luca ignored my warning tone. “To be honest I’m surprised you lasted this long with her. If I spend more than ten minutes in a room with Gianna, I want to seal my ears with hot wax.”

“I’m not tired of her. I actually like Gianna’s obnoxious personality. She spices things up. Life would be boring if she were like the other trophy wives.”