Page 15 of Vengeful Mafia Prince

Chapter Eight—Giovanni

"What exactly did you want to talk about?" I demand. My sister is pacing the living room of our parents' opulent mansion, a glass in one hand, a furrow in her brow.

"I told you, we need to talk about what's going on with you," she shoots back. "I've hardly seen you since... since you started everything with this Elena girl. And now, I'm hearing that you're going to be going for this full-time job there, and it doesn't make sense to me because—"

"Val. Stop."

I lift my hand to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face me, taking a sip of the vodka on the rocks in her glass.

"Don't ever call me that," she warns.

I can't help but chuckle. "You've been trying to get me to stop calling you that your whole life," I remind her. "If it hasn't happened yet, it's not going to happen now. Alright?"

She glares at me for a moment but soon gives in, offering me a small smile.

"You're such an asshole."

"Agreed," I reply. "Now, tell me what you wanted to talk to me about. I have stuff to take care of."

"Like what?"

"Like a report for college."

She cocks an eyebrow, shaking her head, clearly not quite able to believe what she's hearing.

"College," she repeats after me with amusement. "I still can't believe you're going through with all of that."

"It's a means to an end, Valentina," I remind her. "I'm not looking to get a degree."

"Yeah, I know. I get it. You're working to bring down that business. But I haven't seen anything of you since this all started, and I'm getting worried."

"Because I'm busy. There's shit I need to take care of. I can't be coming back here every night after work, it's too dangerous—"

"And you don't think it's too dangerous otherwise?" she fires back sharply. "You don't think you're putting yourself at risk, getting involved with this family in the first place?"

"Maybe," I reply with a shrug. "But I can handle myself."

"What about the girl?" Valentina demands. "Have you gotten any closer to... to getting what you need from her?"

The memory of our encounter the day before in the supply closet flits through my mind. Nobody, not even Valentina, knows about what I've been up to with her in terms of our sexual relationship, and I want it to stay that way.

"I'm getting there," I reply.

"And you're sure it's not going further than you can handle?" she asks, concern lacing her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," she snaps back. She only gets angry like this when she's worried. I'm touched she gives somuch of a damn about me, but at the same time, I don't need her getting up in my face about this.

"I mean, can you pull yourself out if things go south?" she demands.

I fall silent for a moment. It's a good question. Walking away from the job, from the college, that wouldn't be too hard, given that I'm registered at both with a fake name. There's no way they would be able to tie anything back to me in real life, I'm sure about that.

But what about walking away from her? From Elena? That's something else entirely, something I'm not sure is going to be quite as easy. I might not be presenting my true self to her, but as far as I know, she's giving me the real version of herself, and that version is one that I like. She's got nerve, she stands up to me, and she's not afraid to bite back. But at the same time, she's got this deep, submissive streak in her that I love teasing out.

I shift in my seat and then nod.

"Yeah, of course I can, Valentina."

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