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I close my eyes as the rage flows over me, wave after wave, and my mind races with so many possibilities. Andrea sold his sister to a scumbag. I mean, I always knew Russo was a dick, but next time she might not be so lucky. She seems to be the key to Andrea’s plan, though.

I open my eyes. “Kill Michael Russo, make it look like an accident. Then pick up the girl and bring her here.”

I cut the call and go back to Bruno. “We’re expecting company.”

CHAPTER SIX

GIA

My hands are bloody and shaking, and fucking hell, do they hurt.

But it doesn’t stop me from planting one last kick to Michael’s groin. My body trembles, both with rage and pain from the fight. Michael grunts when my foot connects with his dick, although I hardly feel a difference.

I turn and walk away without another word or move, and as I cross the yard, a sense of accomplishment surges through me. All that time training in the gym paid off.

The cha cha cha of the sprinklers on the lawn fills the air, and as they overlap onto the driveway, I get drenched as I head for the open gates to exit the estate.

The cold water stings the open and bleeding cuts on my hands. There’s also a cut on my arm where Michael slammed me into the glass table, shattering it.

I hadn’t felt it at the time, but now it stings hard. I don’t look at it, though; I keep my eyes trained on the exit. Two bodyguards stand on either side, and they watch me as I stride toward them.

They look at each other briefly, then hurry toward the house, no doubt to check on Michael.

My thoughts go back to him. Fucking asshole. Who does he think he is? Thinking he can just take me any which way he wants whenever he fucking wants.

Greedy asshole.

Not me.

Not ever.

I don’t look back as I leave the property. I only pause briefly to curse the fact I left my heels at the house as I step onto the rough tarmac barefoot. The road is rough on the bottoms of my feet, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

I chuckle softly at the thought of the bodyguards finding Michael fucked up. I pause at the corner of the street to get my phone to call a driver.

I search my bag and then pat myself, only to realize I must have left my phone at Michael’s. Well, I’m not fucking going back there to get it.

Guess I’m walking home tonight. What does Andrea always say? I’m as stubborn as the day is long. I lift my chin and walk down the street without hesitation.

I fume to myself with each step I take. Fuck this business with the casinos. They are not my problem and are in no way related to me. If my brother wants those casinos, he’ll have to find another way to get them because I am not a fuck marrying Michael.

Rage pushes me on even though my body aches. I am resolute, and I know once I calm down, once I feel the full extent of the damage, I won’t change my mind.

Andrea cannot force me to do this, especially not after I tell him the stunt Michael pulled tonight. He can’t honestly think it’s a good idea, no matter how badly it will affect the family. I’m his baby sister for crying out loud.

I kick a rock out of the way, hurting my toe, and clench my fists. “Fucking son of a bitch,” I shriek, not caring who hears me.

I relax my hands and try to wipe the blood off them on my ruined dress. It smears, but only makes it worse. Hot tears sting the back of my eyes. Tears of anger.

Some bushes rustle ahead of me, and I keep my eyes trained on them, my shoulders tensing up. A rat sneaks out of the bushes and runs across the street, and I relax again, smirking to myself.

Getting jumpy. I guess you can’t blame me after what just happened. I relax and walk on. But when an owl hoots in a tree right beside me, I nearly pee myself. I’m much more jumpy than I thought.

I’m halfway home, and I walk faster now. I want a hot shower and climb into my bed. I don’t even see the houses I pass anymore, focusing only on the rough road in front of my feet.

I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts it takes me a moment to notice a car pulling up beside me. It’s probably fucking Michael come to fetch me, or punish me.

Oh, no, you don’t, fucker. I don’t check who opens the door or climbs out. This is my cue to get out of here. I sprint away. I leap onto the narrow grass strip beside the houses and run like my life depends on it.