Page 60 of The Red Queen

So, she had gained the upper hand.

“Where is he now?”

“Don’t know,” Vitto admitted. “The Signora wanted to get to the ceremony, and the house was clear of guards.”

Giovanni sighed heavily and shook his head, cradling Desi while she slept. If she didn’t wake up soon, he was going to hunt down the doctor and shake some answers out of the man.

Vitto remained silent, but Giovanni could feel his burning judgment.

“Speak freely,” Giovanni said, pinning the younger man with a glare.

“With all respect, Signore, this wouldn’t have happened if you’d taken Antonio out years ago, when he first started fucking with your territory. You should’ve let Gutierrez take care of him last year when Antonio went after the Sotza girl.”

It was a mark of Giovanni’s guilt that Vitto’s words didn’t anger him. Instead of answering to the charge, Giovanni asked, “Do you have children, Vitto?”

Of course he didn’t have children. He was in his mid-twenties and tied to his job. Giovanni discouraged his soldiers from settling down until they’d moved up the organization, established themselves and stopped working the dangerous jobs.

“No, Signore, no wife, no kids.”

“Then forgive me when I say, you don’t know what the fuck you’re saying.” Giovanni’s voice was hard, inviting no further criticism from the other man. “When you’re faced with the betrayal of your blood, your flesh, your bone, then you may come back to me with your opinion. Only then can you know the pain of having an Antonio.”

“Si, Signore.” Vitto nodded respectfully and turned his body so he could watch the garden, scanning for more threats to his mistress.

“Gio…”

The whisper was so low, Giovanni barely heard it. When he looked down, her eyes were still closed, and she looked just as pale as she had before.

“Desi?”

“Gio.” Her lips moved and this time her voice was stronger. Gradually, she lifted long sooty lashes and looked up at him with velvet brown eyes. “Don’t be rude to Vitto.”

For the first time since he’d caught sight of her coming down the aisle toward him, a smile cracked his severe visage. “Si, anything you say.”

“Anything?” she whispered.

He lifted her left hand and pressed his lips against her rings. “Anything,amore mio.”

“I want a bottle of Donada’s wine, my pajamas and a bed.”

“Those things can be arranged,” he said gently.

“After we see to the wedding guests.” She struggled in his arms until he allowed her to sit up. She swayed on the spot, then seemed to gather herself. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled toward the wet bar.

“You don’t have to worry about the guests,” Giovanni told her. “I will have them cleared out.”

“No.” She picked up a bottle of his best brandy and poured a glass to the brim. He watched in fascinated silence as she drained the glass, poured another half measure, and swallowed that too. By the time she turned back to him, there was colour in her cheeks, and she could straighten to her full height. “We will not allow your wedding guests, half of whom are Cosa Nostra, to see me at my weakest. They will respect this family and your new bride.”

Pride shot through Giovanni. “You’ll need to change.”

She nodded, her gaze going past him. “Vitto, get Donada and bring her to my room. She can help.”

“Si, Signora.”

Before he left, Giovanni took him aside. “I want you to get the rest of the men to scour the house and the grounds for Antonio. It’s time he answered for his crimes.”

Vitto nodded, then left them alone, closing the door behind him.

Giovanni stood and walked toward her.

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