Page 40 of Bloody Savage God
“First room on the right. There are a couple shirts and sweatpants in the drawer. Socks, too, I think.”
After a quick stop in the bathroom to relieve myself, I enter the room Gianna pointed out, noting the sparse furniture. Bed, dresser, and a little stool. Definitely not a luxurious guest bedroom. Inside the dresser I find the promised clothes and pull them on, tightening the strings of the pants to keep them from sliding down. An unexpected wave of anger comes over me at the thought that she keeps these clothes for men she invites out here to play in her dungeon.
She’s mine.
More so than before, now that she has tasted my blood. The thought brings my insides to boil, remembering the way she sucked on my split lip. The sting of the sensation mixed with the way her pussy clamped down on my cock is enough to have me harden again.
Hell. The woman could be the death of me.
Almost was, actually, but she chose to go another route. And doesn’t that make me want to show her my appreciation. I’d never submit to a woman like the wimps in the club, but hell, I’ve got more to offer her. More that will bind her to me.
The realization is startling.
I might have sought her out before, but now? There is no other option now. She’ll be mine.
Whatever it takes.
Striding back into the main room, I give the two women a little smirk.
“Now that I’m outfitted as one of your boy toys, why don’t you tell me how you two met?” That part I’m actually quite curious about. It’s an odd coincidence that Mia’s father just recently beat up one of our men in prison. I’ll have to find out what exactly that altercation had been about. Whatever it was, it had been enough for my father to show me the picture of Samson’s daughter, suggesting she may soon require a visit from us.
Gianna shakes her head. “I don’t think so. This isn’t a fucking small talk convention.”
The way she talks in private makes it hard to picture her in a boardroom or meeting high-profile clients. I imagine she doesn’t cuss when she talks them into buying outrageously priced properties. Then again, her confidence is enough to enthrall anyone. I’d guess even my father would be impressed by her, if he could get over the fact that she is Italian.
“What’s next then?” Mia asks, saving me from having to do the same.
Gianna looks me over. “I can’t give him my car, that would be too suspicious. Can we lend him yours and I’ll give you a ride back into the city?”
Mia frowns, but pulls her car keys from her pocket. “Leave it in the harbor, near the train station. I’ll find it there.” She slides them across the counter and I’m impressed. Her and Gianna must be close if she’s going through all this to help Gianna out. Especially since she has just painted an even bigger target on her back if anyone in my organization finds out about this. Or maybe she figures her father already screwed her over enough it doesn’t matter anymore.
Reaching for the keys, I waste only a second on the thought of actually driving off. It might be the reasonable thing to do, but I’m anything but reasonable. Not when it comes to Gianna Bruno.
“You know, I could drive off now, or I could stick around and help you figure out who actually killed your father. Seems to me whoever did it tried awfully hard to set me up to take the fall, and however much I enjoyed our time together,” I shoot Gianna a smile that makes her glower at me, “I think whoever did it deserves some payback.”
In fact, I’d gut whoever did this especially slowly to get the most satisfaction out of the kill. They didn’t only mess with me, but with Gianna, too, and that obsessive feeling inside me that nags me to stay close to her, also tells me to protect her.
Gianna shakes her head, but Mia eyes me curiously.
“I don’t think so.” Giana shakes her head. “We’re done, you and I.”
I growl at her dismissal, and it’s the first time my other side, the more violent one, riles its ugly head while we’re together. It doesn’t go unnoticed either. In fact, Gianna’s lips curl into a smile.
“How would you be able to help?” Mia asks before Gianna can speak. I glare at her. I want to know what Gianna would have said, but after a few moments I decide against letting my anger out on Gianna’s friend, instead I use the opportunity Mia set up for me.
“You need to ferret out who in your ranks is either a mole or an outright usurper. My guess would be your uncle, but without proof, you’ll take a risk getting rid of him. Unless, you want me to do that?” The thought gives me a great deal of satisfaction. I didn’t like the look on Gianna’s face when she spoke about the man.
Gianna walks to the fridge, opens it, and throws a bottle of water at my head. I catch it and give her my thousand-watt smile. “Thank you.”
She just lowers her eyebrows as if she’s annoyed at herself for doing something nice, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, it is once again Mia who speaks. “And how would you be able to help Gianna figure out the people or person involved? Especially if it’s someone in her own family?”
I have a few ideas, but the most obvious one goes back to the night I saw her stick Benny Ronaldo. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out, Mia.” I say, giving Samson’s daughter a look that is aimed at reminding her that her family isn’t in the clear with the Bratva yet.
She scowls, and I see her reigning in her frustration. “It’s about money then.”
Grinning, I tilt my head. “Always is.”
Gianna makes an annoyed noise, and I turn back to her, admiring the way her breasts rise and fall in the sage green tank top she put on over her jeans. It matches her eyes. She obviously also showered after our little fuck earlier. Her skin is still slightly rosy, even though her dark hair seems completely dried.
