Page 21 of Hot-Blooded Killer

I nod. “Frederico went to UNLV, but he wanted to make sure the rest of us went to the best schools available.”

Her expression turns sympathetic. “You must miss your brothers and father terribly.”

I frown before I remind myself to nod.

Does she really not know about her father’s role in my family’s death?

My jaw clenches involuntarily. Either she truly doesn’t know, or she’s trying not to give it away. Either way, it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t have to understand her role in my revenge for me to use her.

I force myself to put on a pleasant expression. “Let’s not talk about that now. Tell me all the classes you’re taking.”

And so, over the course of the next several weeks, we get to know each other—or at least, she gets to know the version of me that I want her to see.

Every so often, a dark expression flits across her face, and I have to wonder if perhaps I’m not seeing all of her, either.

But I decide it doesn’t matter. As far as she knows, she’s stuck with me. And that’s what I want her to continue believing right up until the moment I’m done with her.

And every night, I kiss her goodbye at her door, never pushing it any further than that first kiss.

That’s part of the plan too.

By the time she gives in to me, it will be because she can’t help herself.

What she doesn’t know is that no one can help her.

Not now, not ever.

CHAPTER9

GIA

Three weeks after Lorenzo and I begin being seen in public together, Pop throws a small party to announce my engagement to Lorenzo.

Small by Las Vegas Mafia standards, anyway.

We hold it at The Trademark country club, neutral territory so all the Vegas Mafia families can attend.

They don’t know why they’re here yet. It was Lorenzo’s idea to make a huge production of it. So an hour into the party, just as everyone sits down to dinner, Pop stands up and taps his wineglass.

Waiters move through the crowd, handing out champagne and my stomach clenches.

Here goes nothing.

“If I could have your attention please, I believe Lorenzo Beneventi has a few words he’d like to say.”

Everyone flashes knowing glances at each other.

This is the biggest act of all—pretending no one knows what’s coming.

Pretending I don’t know.

Lorenzo stands up, and I have to admit, he looks almost unbearably handsome in his dark suit, his green eyes sparkling as his gaze flickers toward me and then away.

Pop says a few words, thanking everyone for coming, and then a waiter moves to hand Lorenzo a cordless microphone.

He moves to the stairs. If nothing else, my intended has a flair for the dramatic. He climbs several steps up, then turns to face the waiting crowd.

“Gia, would you come stand with me?”

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