Page 65 of Bloody Savage God
Unfortunately, she has a point, though I’m not willing to give in to her just yet. I take a step back, my mind racing with thoughts of how to change her mind, how to make her see that we can work together. I want to force her, but even I know that a woman like Gianna won’t do a thing unless she wants it.
It’s what makes her so damn hot.
Before I can speak, there’s a knock at the door. Gianna’s face darkens, and she moves to the intercom on her desk. “Who is it?”
“It’s Riccardo Angelo,” comes the reply, and even through the slight static it’s clear that Anton is much more approving of this visitor than he was of me.
Gianna’s eyes flicker with surprise, but she tells Anton to lead Angelo into the parlor.
“You have to leave.” Her tone is final, pissing me off further.
“So that’s what you’ll do? Tuck tail and let some hot shot fight your fight for you?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Isn’t that exactly what you offered to do?”
I let my fist fly, hitting the book-shelf with a satisfying crunch that reverberates through my knuckles up my arms, the pain grounding me.
“Not like that.” I hiss through my teeth.
She shakes her head before pressing the intercom button once more. “Anton, can you please come see my guest out?”
Anton pops into the room so quickly it’s obvious he’s been expecting the task. His face looks pinched as if my mere presence is barely tolerable.
“Make sure Mr. Angelo doesn’t see … Mike, please.”
Apparently, Anton is more adept at schooling his features for his employer, but I see a moment of curiosity flash across the older man’s features, before he moves his arm in a wide gesture. “Please, follow me.”
Without a second glance at Gianna, I head out of the room. I’m pissed, but I’ve got a plan for releasing some of that anger.
A plan that will force Gianna to see reason.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gianna
“Riccardo,it’sasurpriseseeing you here. Can I get you a drink?”
The don of the Angelo syndicate shakes his head. “I’m only here to check on you. It’s been brought to my attention that you weren’t able to leave our meeting un-accosted, and I felt it was only right to check on you in person.”
For a second I wonder if he would have done the same if I were a man, but dismiss the thought. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take his show of concern as a well-meant one. Just because my uncle is a misogynistic ass, doesn’t mean all men are.
Riccardo’s visit is a surprise, though a pleasant one.
“I dealt with it, but I appreciate your concern.”
“Yes, I can see that, but I can assure you, I’m still none too pleased about the Chechens putting out a hit. Not when it goes down in my neighborhood.” Riccardo’s expression is one of thinly veiled fury, and I’m not about to disagree either.
After only a couple more minutes of conversation, I see Riccardo out. It’s late, and even though his visit was a welcome surprise, I’m glad he’s got other business to attend to.
Mikhail’s visit, on the other hand? Hell, if anyone saw him, it would play right into Mario’s hands. And yet, his offer of protection was a lot more appealing than I feel comfortable with. I’ve never considered myself a woman who wants a man’s protection. That’s the reason I spent hours doing grueling fight lessons with Mia. It’s why I took that shot when my father gave me the option at fourteen.
And yet, the way Mikhail looked when he made the offer somehow had me tempted. Having him as a bodyguard would be a very different experience than having Eric follow me around.
A much more distracting one, I remind myself.
One that I rejected.
I have a plan. A plan that will show everyone I can deal with things myself. Without either Riccardo or Mikhail lending a hand.
