Gian (Trassato Crime Family #1)(30)
“I think Evie’s told you the gist of it. A car rammed us, and someone took a few shots at us. A window is shattered, and the back of my car is f*cked up. That’s it.”
I bridged the distance between the desk and me. I scanned the surface to see if Tony had riffled through my papers. He wouldn’t find anything. My father had taught me better than that, and tonight had opened my eyes to one cold, hard fact: I couldn’t trust anyone, including Tony. A few days ago, I would have sworn he had my back. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
He’d accepted my promotion without complaint even though both he and Carlo had more experience than me. Sal hadn’t blinked an eye either, but that was different. He was two years younger than me, so he didn’t care that I had leap-frogged over a few guys. However, I couldn’t take anything at face value. Not anymore.
Tony rocked back on his heels. “Do you think it was random?”
“I don’t know.” I picked up a pen from my desk and clicked the top a few times.
“It could’ve been. Have you told Dominick?”
“No, and I’m not sure I will.”
His brows pinched together. “He’d want to know. You’re a capo and his nephew. He wouldn’t like someone f*cking with you.”
I tossed the pen on top of a stack of papers. “What can he do?”
“Well, if it was the Russians—”
“What the f*ck would the Russians want with me? I don’t push their shit. I don’t have anything to with them.”
“Exactly, and that pisses them the f*ck off. You kicked one of their guys out of your club last week, and Sal roughed him a bit.”
“What?” I growled. “Why didn’t somebody tell me about that? You need to keep me in the loop, otherwise I look like a dumb ass.”
Tony shrugged. “It wasn’t too bad. He took a swing at Sal and grazed his chin. Sal landed a few good punches, but the guy didn’t end up in the hospital or anything.”
I studied at him, unblinking until the silence became uncomfortable. He jammed his hands into his pockets and rolled his neck in a circle. I stared down my nose at him.
“Don’t keep things from me ever again. I want to know everything. Everything. If I find out you’re hiding shit from me, I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp. Your face won’t be recognizable when I’m done with you. Got it?”
His lips tightened, and his muscles crawled up his shoulders. He vibrated with indignation. “Whatever you want.”
I kept my face neutral. “Great. Now get the f*ck out of my house. I want to go to bed.”
He drained the last sip of whiskey and took a couple of steps toward the door then paused. “By the way, what window was shattered?”
“The rear driver’s side. Why?”
He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Just wondering. It’s probably nothing.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Evangeline
I didn’t know what woke me. It was still dark outside, and the full moon cast a silvery glow mixed with lengthy shadows over the room. If I squinted, I could make out the slanted roofline and streamlined edges of Gian’s dresser across the room.
A soft breeze from the ceiling fan wafted across my exposed flesh, raising tiny goose bumps on my arms. My heart thumped in slow, steady beats. I squeezed my injured hands, testing for pain. Other than a slight twinge, it seemed fine.
I flipped to my side, and my breath splintered mid-exhalation. Gian lay on his side, facing me. His thick, midnight-colored eyelashes looked like dark fans beneath his eyes. Without question, they were the kind that motivated women around the world to buy mascara and fake lashes.
Dark stubble covered the lower half of his face. His lips were parted, yet they still managed to curl up at the corners. The white sheet rode low on his hips, exposing his gold-dusted skin, the mouthwatering contours of his chest, and the sharp angles of his stomach.
When he was awake, his lips were wickedly sinful, his eyes were mischievous, and his jaw hard and unforgiving. Right then, I didn’t see any of those things. I saw a gentle, boyish beauty that took me off guard. It made him authentic and approachable, and liked it.
Without thinking, I traced the inside of his arm from the bulge of his bicep to his wrist. As strange as it sounded, I loved the inside of an arm. It was one of my favorite parts of a man’s body. Smooth and pale, the skin there was untouched by the harshness of the sun and life. The bluish veins peeking through the skin reminded me we were all vulnerable and real no matter how tough or impervious we pretended to be in front of others.
His eyes popped open, and then his brows slammed together. I yanked my hand back so fast I was surprised it didn’t hit me in the gut. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” I flopped onto my back and folded my arms over my chest. “I woke up, and I couldn’t fall back to sleep. Actually, I haven’t tried. I rolled over and saw you next to me, and honestly, it surprised me. I didn’t realize you were planning to sleep in the bed with me.”
“Where did you think I was going to sleep? I told you Tony commented on our living arrangement. I couldn’t exactly sleep in a guest bedroom. That would’ve defeated the whole purpose of putting you in here in the first place.”
“That fuzzy rug on floor or maybe one of those chairs in the corner. All of them look appealing. Soft even. Hell, you could slide those chairs together and toss that rug over it.” I squeezed my lips together to suppress a snicker. The sheepskin rug at the foot of the bed couldn’t have been more than four or five feet long and three feet wide, and the black leather-tufted chairs didn’t have arms. He’d roll off in a matter of minutes.