Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(78)

Gian could never, and would never, forget that.

He would not forget a shooting intended to keep him in line that nearly killed Cara, either.

Things like those were unforgiveable.

The bygones.

“Well?” Edmond asked, still holding his hand out for Gian to take. “Are we going to settle this like proper made men and move on as your grandfather would have wanted us to do, Gian?”

The man intended for Gian to bend down, and kiss his ring. Had it been his grandfather, Gian would have done it without question. Because it was Edmond, the significance made him hesitate.

Still, he bent down, grabbing Edmond’s hand and bringing it close to his mouth. Gian didn’t kiss the ring, though, he simply held it there for a moment.

“You have no idea what Corrado would have wanted,” Gian murmured low enough for only Edmond to hear. “But I certainly do.”

Gian dropped Edmond’s hand, without having kissed the ring, as glass shattered. He straightened to his full height, getting the brief chance to stare Edmond in the eyes for only a second before the man’s body began to sway.

A perfect sniper shot had hit Edmond square between his eyes. Blood trickled down from the wound. Death already stared back from his eyes.

This was appropriate, considering …

Gian let the body fall as one of the men inside the restaurant shouted, a panicked realization starting to take over about what had just happened. He paid the men no mind as he bent down and removed his grandfather’s ring from Edmond’s slack, lifeless hand, only to slide it down his own finger.

Standing once more, Gian turned to face the men with a smile. Shocked faces stared back at him, unmoving and frozen in time.

Chris was one hell of a shot.

Word would certainly be traveling now.

“I’ll answer to Don or Boss, only, and anything else will cost you a body part of your choice,” Gian said quietly. “Now, I need someone to move this body.”





Cara missed her bed—or better yet, Gian’s—the moment she opened her eyes and looked around. The unfamiliar bedroom staring back at her wasn’t necessarily off-putting. The big bed, earthy tones, and soft bedding were comforting enough, as far as that went. But it wasn’t home.

Her body knew it instantly.

She’d already been back in Chicago for a week, and no matter how many times she woke up in the guest bedroom of the Trentini mansion, it was still startling. It only reinforced her desire to go back to Toronto; the need to be home in familiar spaces thrummed deep.

It was only Gian’s demand that she stay away until he called her back—when it would be safe again—that kept her from booking a ticket.

Well, that, and her brother.

Tommas was not letting her go, either. Each time Cara brought up her desire to return home sooner than she was allowed to, her brother was quick to shut that idea down. Things were happening, he would say. She was better, and safer, right where she was for now.

Cara knew better than to argue with difficult, stubborn men. Or rather, she knew which battles to pick.

This was not one.

Cara rolled over in the king-sized bed, ignoring how empty it felt to sleep in such a large space with no one else to help fill it up or keep her company. She had been alone for so long, happy to find occasional fun with a man, but perfectly fine to send him packing before morning even arrived. She couldn’t quite say the same, now.

It was only a week. The loneliness growing in her heart should not have been taking up so much fucking space, like a weed getting out of control.

Love made things difficult.

Complicated, even.

Cara thought it was kind of lovely, too.

She missed Gian.

Terribly.

Cara found her charging phone on the nightstand, and brought it closer, squinting through tired eyes to see if she had missed any calls or messages throughout the night. There was nothing, and that only hurt a little more. She had talked to Gian a few times over the week, but it was never long enough. Their conversations never had enough substance. She couldn’t see his face to tell if he was simply hiding something to make her less worried, or if there really was nothing she should be concerned about.

She knew the truth.

Gian wouldn’t have sent her away if he didn’t absolutely have to. Of course, something was wrong. Of course, he kept their conversations short and the depth of them at a shallow level, in order to ward off Cara’s anxiety.

She didn’t quite know how to tell him that it really wasn’t working. She was still lonely and worried. She still wanted to go home, regardless of what was waiting there—good or bad.

Still, she stayed put.

Cara rubbed a hand over her face, wavering on whether or not to call Gian’s phone. It was early to be calling—seven her time, which meant it was eight in Toronto. Gian ran on his own time, though, which happened to be like a well-oiled machine. Up before six, breakfast and a workout, and then out the door before nine, if he could help it. He ran on the same schedule like it was his default. It didn’t matter if Cara was with him or not, his internal alarms rarely changed.

She scrolled through her contacts, found Gian’s, and hit the green phone button beside his name. The call rang and rang, four times, then five and six. On the seventh, his answering recording picked up, and she ended the call before it even beeped.

Something wasn’t right.