Page 270 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

Perhaps, someone they were already using.

Elena had always liked her tit for tat. She gave something, she expected something back. It was always that way, no matter who she was dealing with.

Gian finally found his rat.

The fucking cunt.

“You need to leave,” Cara said firmly, bringing Gian from his thoughts. “Now.”

“We aren’t finished talking quite yet, Miss Rossi. We thought this information might—”

“What, sway my opinion on Gian? You do realize I consented to those photos, I thoroughly enjoyed having my hair pulled, ass spanked, and his cum painted up and down my body in each and every one. I liked when he got the camera out to play. What I don’t like, is that you assume telling me about his recklessness with the phone, or the way you came about the images, should affect my opinion on him. And as far as his father-in-law, may the man rot in pieces. I bet he got exactly what he deserved, and while I am sure you thought suggesting Gian did that would frighten me, it doesn’t bother me a bit. Get out, now.”

Gian waited in the hallway until the penthouse was quiet again, except for Cara’s soothing hums to the baby in the kitchen. It was as though the meeting hadn’t happened at all, but she still looked to him with sad, knowing eyes when he came out of his hiding spot.

He dropped a quick kiss to her forehead, lingering there for as long as he could, and then giving one to his son’s head, too.

“I have to head out,” he said.

Business like this couldn’t wait.

Cara nodded, questioning in her gaze but never letting the words fly out of her mouth. “Okay. I love you, Gian.”

He kissed her again. “Always, mon ange.”

The Guzzi mansion was much quieter than Gian expected it to be for a weekday. He found there was no doorman waiting to take his coat and keys, as usual, and even the maid was nowhere to be seen. It rubbed him the wrong way, if only because he knew how much Elena liked to be attended. She liked being served as though she were a queen in her big castle. He hadn’t minded indulging her nonsense, if it kept her happy and out of his hair.

Clearly, he had overlooked too much about his wife.

He had been stupid.

He should have killed her long ago.

Gian chose not to question the lack of people in the mansion, only because it benefitted him. He didn’t need to demand someone get out, and no one would even know he had been there. A clean job was the best kind of job, after all.

It took Gian far too long to find Elena in the mansion, because she wasn’t inside at all. He found her sitting outside, with her back turned to him, as she sat on a wicker chair and overlooked the back property. An entire empty bottle of wine rested on its side at her feet, a blanket spilling around her frame in the wicker chair that she was using to cover up with.

“Elena,” Gian called quietly, already spinning the silencer into the barrel of his gun.

Easy.

Fast.

Simple.

He didn’t even care about clean up, or the trouble that might come his way for this. It just needed to be done. Some things were just better done.

“Elena,” he said again when his wife didn’t respond.

Her shoulders moved slightly, and her head bobbed a bit, but that was all the response his wife gave to the call of her name. But, it did mean she could hear him.

“Your father warned me and I should have listened,” Gian said. “He told me women like you know exactly what you’re doing, even when everything says you don’t know at all. You needed a short leash, he said. I thought, why. I give her everything she wants because she doesn’t want me, so why should I worry about how far she goes? I should have listened, Elena.”

Unsurprisingly, his wife didn’t talk or move.

Gian took another couple steps across the large back deck, closer to her position. “The only thing you ever wanted was to be free, wasn’t it? Something I couldn’t give you, but by no fault of my own. It was your games—your schemes—that got us here, and you thought you could play your way out of them again. Get me locked up for good, maybe. File a divorce then, when it couldn’t be contested and it wouldn’t matter anyway. You would have it all and the rest wouldn’t make a fucking difference.”

Still, he got no response.