Page 28 of Bloody Savage God
Gianna’s laugh is cynical. “As if you don’t know. Why else would we be here?”
Fucking hell. Looks like someone is trying to set me up, which is almost a relief, because for a moment there I actually thought Anya might have had something to do with the murder. Her nervous demeanor yesterday and talk about wanting a piece of what the Italians have would certainly provide enough motive. My sister is nothing but ambitious.
That is probably why I’m here. Gianna is guessing at that very motivation to expand our reach in Toronto. But Anya would never set me up for the fall. Nor would she be so obvious if she were to set anyone up. There is power in subtly, and Anya is good at that kind of thing.
It’s such an obvious move, I have to wonder whether Gianna herself hasn’t considered that someone is directing her focus with a signpost. Except, obviously, she is sure I was dumb enough to have done it, even going so far as to leave the corpse with my trademark signature.
“Why would I kill your father?” I raise my eyebrow at her in challenge, fairly certain that she won’t be able to resist. Whatever is going on inside of Gianna’s head, I need to figure it out. Even now my obsession with her is growing, despite the less than ideal circumstances.
For a second, I see her hesitate, but then she scoffs. “Even with your money, your family has been working in the trenches while we’ve capitalized on the rich and influential. Maybe you thought taking my father out will stop us from expanding our territory. Or maybe you think you can poach our business. Get your hookers in and blackmail the people we’re running.”
Damn. Looks like Gianna and Anya really are thinking along the same lines, only confirming that it’ll be difficult to convince Gianna that I had nothing to do with her father’s death. Still, Gianna’s tone surprises me a little and her dismissive demeanor suggests that she’s not truly worried her father’s death could impede the Bruno operations. Despite the unfortunate position I find myself in, icy water still dripping down my balls, I’m curious to find out more.
“Are you saying your father’s death won’t stop you from expanding for a while?”
Frustration flashes across her face, and it’s annoying me more than it should that I don’t know what’s going through her mind. It really shouldn’t matter in the slightest, but Gianna Bruno isn’t like the other women I’ve dealt with in my life. Anya might be smart and hungry for power, but she’s never pushed through my father’s stereotypes. And even the other dominant women I’ve played with can’t hold a candle to the Italian princess. They might be dominant and some are even genuine sadists, but none of them have the true violent core that people like her and me are born with.
She’s intriguing even now that she is looking at me like she wants to skin me alive. “What happens in my family is none of your business. But since you won’t share the information anyway, you might as well know that I’ve been running the business for years with minimal involvement from my father. So, no, his death won’t stop us from expanding. And the games will continue as well.”
I notice her face once again get that irritated expression. Except, it only flashes across her face during the last sentence about the gambling dens the Brunos run. An expression that wasn’t there when she talked about their corporate empire.
Interesting.
I search my memory for a moment before I land on something relevant. “Your uncle runs the games, doesn’t he?”
Irritation flashes across her features, and she turns away, walking to a hidden nook where, now that she’s drawn my attention to it, I see metal objects lying on a table.
Just great.
These aren’t the fun kind of toys. Not like the knife she used on me the last time we were together. Or rather, they might still be fun for her, but they definitely won’t be for me.
I might enjoy pain, but dismemberment? Not so much.
Although there is that tiny messed up part of me that is eagerly awaiting the pain.
Making use of Gianna’s momentary distraction, I look around the room. Before, my entire focus was on her, but now I take in what looks very much like a sex dungeon, complete with a spanking bench and a wall that holds paddles and floggers.
Nice.
Under different circumstances, I would have gladly followed her here. Now, though, I’d better figure out wherehereis, so I can get away from Mistress Pain before she realizes she has already marked my body. Lucky for me, she tied me up fully clothed, otherwise my tattoos would have already given me away.
My eyes snap back to Gianna, who is still busy sorting through her implements. In any other situation, I may have laughed, because who takes this long to pick between a bunch of knives and whatever few things she might have there? Pliers, maybe. She certainly didn’t take that long to pick out the ball torture devices she had handy the last time we were together. It seems more like she is thinking through what I said.
Then again, she might just be drawing out the anticipation of hurting me.
Tracing the curve of her ass with my eyes, I find it presented rather nicely while she bends forward, and my cock twitches at the realization that the woman isn’t just kinky as fuck. She can also knock me out. And she’s fully prepared to take it even further.
Not even the cold water still soaking my pants can make my cock reconsider its continued interest. Perhaps it remembers the last time she used ice water to get me off.
When Gianna straightens, I get my first glimpse of what she has picked out. The sight of the carpet knife isn’t exactly comforting. Although I have to admit I am curious how she intends to use it.
She walks back over to me, leaning down so her face is right in front of mine.
“I want to know how you got to my father.”
“You’re more concerned about why your father was unprotected than the reason behind his death?” I chuckle, knowing it will infuriate her, but willing to risk it. I’ve determined that making her doubt her reasons for taking me in the first place is my best way to get out of here before she realizes this isn’t the first time she’s put a blade through my skin. “Or are you simply satisfied with the pathetic reason you conjured up? You know? That imaginary advantage my family might gain from your father’s early passing.” Hopefully, like me, she’ll realize that any effort on our part to infringe on the Italian’s business would pose too many risks for us.
Anya, who is stuck in a less than ideal position, might be willing to take those kinds of risks, but my father wouldn’t. He’s been consolidating the Toronto Bratva steadily, and wouldn’t risk upsetting the tenuous balance we’re operating in. Gianna should know that, as my father’s enforcer, I’d be risking my own skin if I stepped out of line and acted without his orders.
