Page 78 of Guarded

“The tall one, the one I think you saw, his name is Savino Biondini. The oldest son of Lucio Biondini. The one in the middle is running against Preston, Massimo Messina. He had his name changed years ago when he got into politics. This one, the one I think rescued me, is Cesidio Verde Biondini, better known as ‘Verdis.’ They are all affiliated with the Italian Mafia.”

My eyes shoot up to hers. Questions cloud my mind as I try to grasp the story she’s telling.Italians?I had never heard of the cartel working with the Mafia, let alone having problems with them.

“What does Cassiel have to do with this? Why did they shoot him?” I ask.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, too. Something just isn’t right.” She says, shaking her head.

“How do you know Cassiel?”

It was the question she had been avoiding. Nero told me she visited the hospital frequently. I answer the question myself, though, when I remember the other reason she had been locked away.

“Was Cassiel the guy stalking you? The one your mom said you made up? What does he want, Gen?”

“I don’t know what exactly he wants.” Gen sighs.

“What do you know about the motorcycle club? Has Nero told you anything?” Her pensive face turns to me, her brows bunching together.

“I don’t know much. Nero took me to the clubhouse once, but I’m sure I won’t be invited back anytime soon. I learned my lesson taking shots from Shawny- ten out of ten do not recommend.” I say sarcastically.

“Wait. Shawny. The redhead?”

“Yup, that’s her. Red hair, big boobs, and a tattoo of a crescent moon in the center of her chest. Which I thought was cute, but she hates me, so, ya, fuck her. I don’t even-” I ramble on before Gen interrupts me.

“She hates you?” And that was why she was my best friend. She thought it was absurd that anyone could hate me. Yet here we are.

“Ya. The day Tonio posted about me, I overheard her and Alma talking shit about me in the bathroom.”

“Alma? Thalia’s friend?”

“Yup.”

“What the fuck were they saying about you?” she scoffs.

“I don’t know. Just the stuff Tonio was saying on his channel, the usual gossip about me. I’m prissy, stuck up, a hoe, and whatever else they said.”

I was always called something of the sort. Most of my issues stemmed from social anxiety. Did I enjoy the finer things in life? Yes. And to be honest, I’m glad I could take advantage of designer bags when I could. It’s hard in these streets. Was I a hoe? Maybe. But I know for a fact I am not stuck up. I have anxiety,ovis.

Believe it or not, social anxiety doesn’t always mean you don’t want to socialize. It’s more complicated than that. Some people, Moi, for example, want to socialize—like all day and all night.

I want to connect, but I don’t know how to. Overthinking the whole process caused me to panic. Shout out to my mom and dad for locking me up most of my life.

I can’t help freezing up when people talk to me. The times I did attempt to converse, I would ramble or laugh nervously. Women would find this annoying, and men would think I was flirting. It was exhausting to be me. Who knows how I would act meeting Preston?

Oh my gatos. My eyes shoot to Genesis’s.

“Verdis!” I shout.

“What?”

“Verdis is the name of the restaurant I’m going to with Preston!”

“What restaurant?” she asks.

“I’m meeting Preston and his family there. That’s the name of the restaurant, Verdis. Look.” I type the restaurant into Google and pull up the website. Sure enough, it’s the very same Cesidio Biondini from the picture.

“Grand opening of Verdis, Houston’s new upscale Italian restaurant and winery. Cesidio Biondini is said to bring a fine dining experience, subtle entertainment, and sophisticated fun.” I read aloud.

“Oh my god, Ari, do you know what this means?” Gen says, her face lighting up. I don’t know what this means, but I shake my head like I do.

---