Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(72)

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Not running, clearly. I made food. I want to fucking eat it, if you don’t mind.”

Gian’s jaw clenched. “And then what? Because Chicago is non-negotiable, Cara.”

She ignored him, grabbing a steak knife to cut into the slab of meat on her plate.

“You’re going to be on that flight tomorrow,” he said when she stayed quiet.

“Will you shut the fuck up and eat?”

Gian yanked the chair out from the table with more force than was necessary. The two of them ate like that, both irritated and angry with the other, silent and stewing in their frustrations. Cara barely looked at Gian, and she could feel his damn eyes burning into her.

She hated that he had been right. She understood shit was bad in Toronto right now for him and the Guzzi family as a whole. He had been going non-stop for days, on the phone, out of the penthouse, and then back at odd hours. She overheard some of his phone calls, though she knew better than to eavesdrop.

Shit was going down.

Or it was about to be going that way fast.

Gian was trying to prepare as best he could for it.

Cara was likely one of those things, but he was so fucking right. It was not that he was sending her away, but where he was sending her away to. It was Chicago, and all the hell and pain that was about to accompany her on a long trip down a memory lane she didn’t want to walk through.

Certainly not alone, anyhow.

And fuck him for knowing it would hurt her, and doing it anyway.

Fuck him for that.

It was only after they had finished the food, after she had cleared the table, that the yelling really got started between them. She had never fought with Gian, certainly not with raised voices and something to actually shout about. Not for something she was truly angry with him over.

This was not the same.

It was the first time Cara yelled in a long fucking time.

She raged.

She was pissed.

Gian let her.

She had the distinct feeling he did that because regardless of how much she screamed, fought, swore at him, and said no, she was still going.

And it was going to hurt.

A lot.





Gian closed his laptop the second he heard familiar mumblings coming from down the hall. Cara sounded less annoyed than she had the night before. He took a phone call as he listened to the soft patter of feet down the hall, followed by the click of a closing door. The bathroom, likely.

By the time he was done with his call, Cara stood in the office doorway. She hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on; she still wore that frilly, delicate lace that she’d gone to bed in. And that was only the panties, not the bra. She had simply tossed his dress shirt on—unbuttoned—which did very fucking little to cover her breasts.

Never mind what it did for his cock.

Bathed in morning light from the wide office windows. Sleepy-eyed. Mussed hair. Peeks of her soft, smooth skin, from the valley of her tits all the way down to the lace of her panties, demanded his attention. Her lips had turned a faded, stained red from the lipstick she had been wearing the night before.

Gian was sure his maid was sick and tired of trying to clean red lipstick stains out of his white sheets.

Fuck.

He wished he cared.

Cara leaned in the doorway. “Morning.”

“You seem more pleasant today,” Gian said.

“I was pleasant last night.”

“After you yelled at me and then ignored me for hours.”

Gian had never imagined a time would come in his life when he found himself controlled by the ways of a woman. At least, he hadn’t expected that control to come because he loved her.

Cara had no idea of her control over him.

She probably thought Gian pulled the strings.

How wrong she was …

“I know you’re not happy about Chicago, Cara.”

“It … seems like a bit much,” Cara said. “Like an overreaction, maybe. I could go anywhere, but that’s where you think I should go.”

“Your brother is there. You have family to look after you until I think it’s safe to ask you back. It won’t be for long. It’s only a precaution, bella. Sending you to a safe house is one thing, but sending you out of the country is even better.”

“Safe.” She scoffed. “You do realize that the last time I was in Chicago, I buried Lea.”

“Yes, but—”

“Because someone killed her.”

Gian nodded, knowing this was one of Cara’s hot-button issues. “I’m aware, but shit is different down there now. Calmer, even. Your brother recently took over as the new boss. It might do you some good to settle a few things while you’re down there. And by settle, I mean stuff in your heart—the things that keep causing you pain. Your father died, you didn’t go to his funeral. Your mother killed herself not too long ago and you didn’t go back for that, either. And even if not for them, then for Lea. You miss her all the time. You say it enough, like you left her behind.”

Cara glanced away at that statement. “I hate Chicago.”

“You hate how it makes you feel, mon ange. That isn’t the same thing. Time to face that head-on, and bury it for good.”

“Easy for you to say.” She blew a stray curl out of her face. “I’m not going to put up more fight about Chicago.”