Page 44 of Bloody Savage God
I nod, grinning. “Told you so.”
Satisfied with her reaction, I dig into my own food. It’s been a while since Anya and I had a chance to come here together, but my memory was correct. The food really is damn good.
“So, what’s your favorite knife?” I ask after a while, my curiosity getting the better of me. After all, I know plenty of men who carry knives, and almost all of them have a good story about why they choose the one they carry around.
Gianna raises an eyebrow at me. “My favorite knife? What kind of question is that?”
I chuckle. “Come on, you know you have a favorite. I bet it’s some fancy Italian stiletto or something.”
She rolls her eyes, but I can see the hint of a smile on her face. “Actually, I prefer a good old-fashioned switchblade.”
I nod in approval. “Classic. I can appreciate that.”
“What about you?” she asks. “What’s your favorite?”
I think for a moment before answering. “Probably my combat knife. It’s got a nice weight to it, and the serrated edge is perfect for slicing through tough materials.” I wink at her.
Gianna nods. “Makes sense. What about guns?”
I shrug. “Guns have their place, but there’s something about a knife that feels more personal, you know? Plus, it never hurts to have a backup plan in case you run out of ammo.”
Gianna nods in agreement. “I get that. But there’s something satisfying about the precision and power of a well-made weapon. I usually carry a SIG Sauer P238.”
We continue talking about our favorite weapons for a while, discussing the pros and cons of different models and designs. Watching Gianna settle into the meal is fucking rewarding.
We finish our food and I pay the bill, then make our way back to the car.
“So, what do you think?” I ask, glancing over at her.
She smiles, a bit of sauce still visible on her lips. “I think I owe you one for this.”
As we pull into traffic, Gianna turns to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know, we could always test out our weapons on each other.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, feeling my pulse speed up at the thought. “You sure you’re ready for that kind of competition? Are we talking guns or knives?”
Gianna grins, a hint of danger in her eyes. “Oh, I’m more than ready. I wouldn’t mind continuing my work on your chest, so knives it is.”
I curse the damn game and her fuck-up of an uncle for their existence as Gianna steers the car back to the villa we scoped out earlier. If it weren’t for them, I bet Gianna could do some damn interesting things with that switchblade of hers right now.
Instead, we’re off to do some dirty work.
And yet, getting dirty for Gianna holds a whole different level of satisfaction than doing it for my father or the Bratva.
And I might even get a little reward out of it later.
Chapter Fifteen
Mikhail
It’sdarkout,butthe outside of the villa is dimly lit to ensure the way from the parking lot is clear and the security people can walk a perimeter. It’s a good set-up, but their problem is they don’t expect a single person to come at them, making it easier for me.
Hidden behind one of the hedges, I watch the rotation of Gianna’ssoldatifor a few minutes, before one of them lights a cigarette and slows down. It gives me the opening I need. Sprinting across the lawn, I approach the building around the corner from the nicotine addict, and step into the mudroom off the back of the garage.
The fact that Gianna has the security codes and spare keys makes my life easy, and I slip into the building. It was well worth stopping at her company’s office earlier. Especially since I also have a blueprint of the place memorized. I’m not eager to play target practice with some pissed off Italians tonight, which means I have a helpful amount of adrenaline to help my brain work overtime.
I can hear the noise of people drinking and gambling. No smell of cigars, though, which is strange, but I suppose that would fuck up the resale value of the places. Who’d buy a luxury villa that stinks of smoke? I guess in the twenty-first century, even the Mafia has to lay down rules against indoor smoking.
The thought almost makes me laugh out loud.
