Page 195 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“Chris is waiting outside for you.”

Elena didn’t need to be told again. She got up from the table, said a quick goodbye to her father, rubbed a hand on Gian’s shoulder as she passed, and then she was gone.

“I was only asking,” Gabriel said with a smirk. “No need to send her out. She can handle her own, Gian, I assure you.”

Gian held back from punching the man in the throat. “Yes, and then I’m the one who has to deal with her emotional backlash from handling you and your nonsense for the next week. No, thank you, Gabriel. If you’re going to throw my wife’s abortions in her face, maybe stop to consider who forced her into those, as well. What was she, sixteen the first time? The police chief, wasn’t it?”

Gabriel didn’t even blink at the accusation. “It kept me from getting tossed behind bars on a five-year sentence.”

“Shame. Those five years could have done her a world of good.”

“She’s not as innocent as you think, Gian. You’re under some impression that she didn’t understand what she was doing for all those years—she knew. She knew perfectly well.”

This was an emotional, manipulative game that Gabriel liked to play with his daughter, far too often. He couldn’t use her to do his bidding now, so he liked to mess with her in other ways. Sometimes, Gian thought his wife and father deserved one another for their despicable behavior toward each other and other people. Other times, like now, he didn’t want to sit back and watch Gabriel hurt Elena simply because he could.

“What did you really want today?” Gian asked. “What did you want by asking me here?”

“To warn you,” Gabriel said before he took a hearty sip of whiskey from a glass. “I couldn’t do that when you were in jail, and your men are already well versed on staying away from me and mine.”

“For good reason. Warn me about what, exactly?”

“I was arrested and put in for four months because of you. Or rather, my affiliation to you was enough to have them watching me, and then serving me with warrants that garnered the charges I received. I don’t care about the details, Gian, I care about my freedom.”

“Don’t we all?” Gian asked dryly. “Get to the point, so we can go our separate ways and pretend like this didn’t happen until the next time.”

“The point, you arrogant fuck, is that you’ve clearly got a rat problem somewhere. Someone, likely one of your fucking men, is feeding information to the police. And that’s not surprising, considering all the shit you stirred up after your grandfather was killed. Corrado was a good man, fit for his position. You, on the other hand, are a spoiled, cocky, ignorant—”

“If we’re going to trade insults, my demand is that you let me go first,” Gian murmured. “It’s only fair, considering. Otherwise, I’ll take a pound from you for every name you throw at me without it being deserved.”

Gabriel ground his teeth loud enough to be disturbing. “You find out which one of your useless cunts are talking to the police, or I will do it for you.”

“Who’s to say it’s not coming from your end?”

“It’s not.”

“Well—”

“Figure it out,” Gabriel interrupted, “or I will tear through your streets and do it myself.”

“Are we done?” Gian asked, standing from the table.

“Very much so. Tell my daughter to behave, Gian, though I am sure you’re keeping a proper eye on her. Women like Elena need that sort of control. She needs to be on a very short leash, because her bite is far worse than her bark, believe me.”

Gian didn’t bother to respond to that, instead turning on his heel and heading for the front of the restaurant. He was gone from the business, and into the waiting SUV, before the cameras even realized he had stepped back out.

This time, Gian sat in the front seat beside Chris.

Elena sat in the back, glaring out the window.

Chris handed over Gian’s charging cell phone, still plugged into the cigarette lighter. “Here, it’s been going nuts. Probably trying to catch up with all the shit that it’s missed out on these past few months.”

“Thanks. Drive.”

The enforcer did as he was told.

“What did he say when I was gone?” Elena asked from the back seat.

“Ignore that fucking bastard,” Gian replied.

He was more interested in checking his phone. A brand-new message scrolled across the screen, one sent within the last few minutes.

From Cara.

Twenty-eight weeks today, it read. He could see, through looking at her messages for the past several months that she had sent him a text like this for every week that he had been locked up.

Gian smiled.

Elena leaning over his shoulder quickly made his brief happiness dissipate. He turned his phone’s screen off, but he wasn’t sure if Elena had seen the messages, or not. Of course, if she had, that didn’t mean she would understand what they meant.

“I’d like to go to the mansion,” his wife said.

“Be my guest. I’m going to the penthouse.”

She sat back in the seat, unbothered and cold once more. “Good.”

Elena dropped her pretense and her mask, as she had gotten what she wanted where her father was concerned, and didn’t think she would have to worry about him again for a while.

Gian expected nothing different.