Page 28 of Greed

“Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Lorenzo says. “He could have taken any one of us.”

“But he aimed for Gia, and I’m the one who sent her into Russo’s arms. Their security is shocking. I should have insisted that our guards accompany them,” I say as Lorenzo passes me a cigar. I cut and light it and sit back as Francesco brings us drinks.

“You’re just feeling down. We’ll get Gia back, in one piece, and we’ll find another way to rise among the ranks,” Lorenzo says, trying to comfort me.

“I just wish there was something I could do,” I grumble, feeling despondent.

“Maybe you should call off the hit?” Lorenzo offers. “Just until Gia is home safely and we can come up with a better plan.”

I’m about to answer him when my phone lights up with a call. I drain my drink as I don’t recognize the number. I set the cigar down and answer the call.

“This is Andrea Bianchi. Who is this?”

I listen for a moment, then sit up straight, listening to what could be the best possible solution.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

GIA

I’m so comfy: curled up with my feet tucked under me. A book in my hand. This is how I like to spend most Sunday afternoons after a weekend of partying. Just chilling with a book.

The book isn’t what I would usually read, but it’s okay. However, when I sense Matteo’s hand near my face, memories of Michael trying to force himself on me flood through me in a hot rush.

I remember his breath on my skin, his hand on my arm, and how he pressed me against the wall. He ground his tiny erection against me.

A shudder goes through me.

The look in his eyes as he swore he’d have me whatever way he wanted, even anally. Especially after my cunt became too loose when I got older. It was that comment that had set me off.

I shudder again as the memory strikes me.

With the book in my hands and my legs under me, I’m trapped. I can’t defend myself. Fight back. So I do the only thing that I can think of.

I bite Matteo’s hand, hard.

Matteo screams and tries to pull away as the taste of blood floods my mouth. Shocked, I let go.

He jumps up and backs away from me, holding his bleeding hand. I am just as surprised as he is. I wasn’t planning to bite his hand, but when he reached out to touch me, it was Michael I saw.

And I’d fight that asshole every single day. Why should I care anyway? Matteo shouldn’t be touching me. I don’t belong to him.

We stare at each other, his hand dripping blood onto the carpet. I hope I bit a vein or something. Are there arteries in your hand? I should google that one day. Handy piece of information to have.

I stare into his shocked eyes, and then I do the only thing I can yet again think to do. I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss at him.

As though this stirs him out of his shock, he turns around and stomps out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I try not to smirk.

I can still taste his blood in my mouth, and I go to the bathroom quickly to rinse my mouth out and brush my teeth because that shit is disgusting. I can’t believe I bit him until he bled. I gag and bring up some bile. I rinse my mouth again.

I lean over the basin, taking deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. Michael has really done a number on me. I didn’t think he affected me that badly. He caused me more trauma than I thought, and it’s going to take a lot to get me to trust someone again.

I’m still shocked I bit him. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Self-defence. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I’m not going to pretend I feel bad for doing it. Maybe that’ll teach him to bring his hands close to my face. Or anywhere else near me for that matter. What is it with the men around me? Am I fucking cursed?

I seriously need to get out of here before Matteo retaliates and actually puts me in the cellar for biting him. I’ve heard how ruthless he can be, and the last thing I want is to be shackled in a dark, damp basement.

That’s certainly not my idea of fun.