Page 82 of Ruin
That’s when Berto tries to take control. His head down, glowering at me like a bulldog, he’s sloppy, jittery, and he can’t land a punch to save his ass. He tries to grab me in a headlock, his breath hot and desperate in my ear.
“You picked the wrong girl, Demonio,” he hisses.
The wrong girl?
I slam my head back into his nose, and it crunches beneath my skull. He squeals like a stuck pig, blood pouring between his fingers as he releases me and clutches his face. I spin him into the nearest counter, his head bouncing off the mahogany.
“She’s the only girl,” I growl, pinning him by the throat, “and it’s none of your fucking business.”
The other two are groaning on the floor, trying to get up. I drop Berto and straighten, knuckles raw, chest heaving. My pulse pounds like a fucking drum, but my stance is steady and controlled as I wipe the blood from my knuckles on Berto’s jacket.
The saleswoman has vanished, which I guess is smart, but I need Gi’s ring. I find it by the register, and I snatch the iconic gold Luminous box, slipping it into my pocket.
The alarm abruptly cuts off, and my phone buzzes in my pocket.
“Tommaso.” Lorenzo’s voice coils through the line, smug and sharp. “I see you’ve made quite a mess in my store.”
“You see, huh?” I scan the ceiling until I find a camera and hold the gold box up to it. “Your sales associate seems to be on a break. Invoice me.”
“Invoice you?” His voice drops into a growl. “Should I also itemize the broken display case? The damaged jewelry? The medical bills for my men?”
“Your men jumped me.” My tone is calm steel. “I defended myself. And one of them was Berto. Is Antonio in on this too?”
His voice darkens, every word dripping with hatred. “Youcome into my place of business, buy a fucking engagement ring for my daughter, and spill blood on my floor? I told you to end this relationship.”
“I don’t need your blessing.” My grip tightens around the ring box.
His laugh is dry, humorless. “Yes, I saw how you treat ‘what’s yours’ on New Year’s Eve. The whole party was talking about the disgusting spectacle when you humiliated my daughter in the bathroom, the shame you brought on her, treating her like a whore.”
His voice rises to an almost hysterical crescendo, and I pause. Does he not know what she means to me?
“I would never demean her, sir. Everything I do—every hour, every deal, every degree I earn—is for her.”
“You could be king of the fucking world and you still wouldn’t be good enough for my daughter. But you’re not, are you? You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It was better when you dressed and behaved like what you are: a murderer and a thug.”
The words cut like knives, far worse than anything his minions could do. “I worship her, Lorenzo.” I say, my voice raw. “I’m never going to stop loving her.”
He’s silent, and for a moment I think that maybe I’ve won him over, maybe he understands that no other man could ever love his daughter more.
His voice drops, deadly soft. “Love her all you want. It won’t matter when I bury you.”
The line goes dead.
33
Giovanna
“Yes, Dad. Why do you keep asking me? Tommy and I will be there for dinner.”
“Are you sure?” My father’s voice grinds through the phone, the same question he’s been circling for 10 minutes straight. He hasn’t spoken to me for over a year, and now suddenly he won’t leave me alone. If it weren’t for my mother insisting on a family dinner for my 21st birthday, I wouldn’t even be answering this call.
But tonight feels important, like a pivot point. Like Tommy might finally take the step I’ve been waiting for and ask for my father’s blessing to marry me. Not that Lorenzo will give it—he’d rather swallow glass—but the tradition matters. The fact that Tommy would even try matters. That’s the gift I want.
It’s everything I’ve been holding out for. I graduate from NYU next spring, so I’m thinking we get married in the summer before I start law school in the fall. It will take a year at least to plan the wedding, so the engagement should happen now.
I rub my temples as my father drones on.
It hasn’t been easy with Tommy lately. He’s always gone, buried in school or work. We orbit each other, meeting when we can. But maybe tonight will change that. Maybe tonight is the beginning of a new era.
