Page 29 of Giovanni the Savage

“Why am I here?” I ask, even though a part of me already knows the answer.

His mocking laughter tells me that much. He walks to the door, taps a switch, and a dull light comes on. Not bright enough to make out his features, but bright enough for me to see the tattoo on his forearm.

The same one from the stamp.

“Take a guess,” he taunts, displaying the tattoo for me to see better.

The American Mafia.

“Please,” I plead.

“Please,” he mimics and bursts into laughter. “You’re five years too late, missy.”

Missy. I was right about the guys from the café after all.

But it’s not like I would have called the cops on them when my father used me as collateral for his debts.

“Your old man would have taken care of this a long time ago,” he hums. “But he was just too proud to see past his ego and greed.”

“But I’m just his child.”

“Which makes it all the more perfect,” he concludes. “He didn’t even try to save you, Luna.”

“God, please. I don’t make enough to pay back the debts,” I plead.

From working three jobs to caring for my brother’s fees to my personal life, squeezing in my father’s eighty-thousand-dollar debt isn’t exactly on my bucket list.

“But Daddy dearest did.” He chuckles. “Yet he refused.”

God, fuck you, Dad! Wherever you are, I pray you turn over in your grave.

“I have money saved,” I blurt.

“Really?” His ears perk. “How much?”

I groan before I call the amount. “Five grand.”

He lets out another sadistic laugh. “That’s not even enough for a quarter of the debts.”

“I’ll pay the rest. Please just give me time,” I plead desperately.

“Time.” He puffs out clouds of smoke in my face. “And how many years would you have to work to raise the remaining seventy-five grand?”

Low blow. Try twenty?

“Yeah. Thought as much,” he mutters when I don’t respond.

He remains silent for a moment while I keep muttering pleas to him. Sweat is rapidly running down my back just as tears trickle down my face. I feel so sticky, but a bath is the last thing on my mind.

“And that’s why I’ve come up with a new offer.” He smiles maniacally.

My heart leaps in hope, and I look up to him. I can’t tell if he means it or if he is just playing mind games.

“What’s the offer?” I ask bluntly.

“Your boldness is admirable.” He chuckles. “You’re going to need it.”

What does he even mean?

---