Page 164 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“Drive,” Gian demanded the second he shut the car door.

Chris glanced at his boss through the rearview mirror. “Shit, that bad?”

“Drive.”

Quickly, the car pulled off onto the road, but the enforcer was still keeping one eye on Gian. It made him feel like a bug under a microscope. He couldn’t hide the fact he was emotionally unsettled—sad, haunted, and angry all at once.

He couldn’t hide shit when it came to Cara.

“You know I was just joking about the whole losing your license thing, right?”

“I didn’t lose my license. I paid the fucking fines. Take me home.”

“Boss—”

“Shut up and drive,” Gian snapped.

“You got it, boss.”

Chris didn’t ask or say another thing. The man made no jokes as he navigated city traffic, and headed in the direction of Gian’s penthouse. Gian, on the other hand, stewed in his fucking mess of emotions the entire way, alternating between glaring out the window, and hiding his clenched hands in his pockets.

He had paid his fines, and then gotten the hell out of the courthouse as fast as he possibly could. He feared that if he ran into Cara again, he wouldn’t have as much control the second time around. He thought it was very possible that he might just grab her, make her listen, and have her talk to him more than what she already had.

Gian was an idiot.

It was only the ringing of his phone that brought him out of his frustrated daze. He didn’t even bother to check the caller ID as he swiped the screen and then put it to his ear. The usual, causal Italian and French greeting he answered with was gone because of his current mood, leaving a rude bark in its place.

“What?” he snarled into the phone.

“Well, hello to you too, asshole.”

Gian’s anger kicked up a notch or two at his wife’s voice. “What do you want, Elena?”

“Rough day?”

“Do you care?”

“Not really,” she answered sweetly.

“Why are you calling me on a Tuesday?”

He wasn’t due back at the mansion until tomorrow evening, at the latest. He didn’t spend every day and evening there, if he could help it. Usually, he found excuses. As long as it appeared that he was in a relationship with his wife, then no one would bother to look too deeply into what was actually going on.

That was good enough for Gian.

As it was, this façade took enough work.

“Dinner, with my father. It’s coming up. He called, and wanted me to remind you.”

Fuck.

Gian’s irritation managed not to spill over into the phone when he said, “Great, anything else?”

“Nope.”

Wonderful.

He hung up without a goodbye, and didn’t feel guilty for it. After all, Elena would do the same for him.