Page 41 of Hot-Blooded Killer

He stands at our table for what feels like an eternity, then finally takes his leave. “You ladies enjoy your lunch,” he says, his smile tightening as he turns to go.

As soon as he disappears into the kitchen, I take a sip of the water in front of me. “I’ll be right back,” I mutter, then stand and head toward the restroom. Gino watches me go, but he knows the layout of the restaurant—there’s nowhere for me to go other than to and from the women’s room.

Inside the bathroom, I splash water on my wrists, and then pat a little on my overheated cheeks, careful not to smudge my makeup.

I’m going to have to get used to this, I remind myself. After all, the DeSantis triplets move in the same social circles Lorenzo and I do.

Besides, if I ever decide I want Elio back, I can have him again—after I have taken down the Beneventis.

But somehow, that idea isn’t as comforting as it might’ve been just a week ago.

Finally, I feel prepared to face the world again—or at least my friends. With a deep inhalation, I step out of the restroom.

Where I find Elio DeSantis waiting for me.

I gasp and take a half step back. Elio steps forward, blocking my exit. I try to sidestep him, but he slides in front of me and stretches his arms out to cage me against the wall.

“What you want, Elio?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I frown, confused by the question. “I did tell you. I told you I couldn’t see you anymore.”

“But you didn’t tell me why.”

He leans in over me, and for the first time since I’ve known him, I find Elio more frightening than attractive.

Still, I try to talk to him. “Do you think it would have made you feel any better if I told you I was breaking up with you because I was getting married?”

Elio snorts, a derisive sound. “Maybe if you’d told me you were being forced to, yes. I could have helped you get out of it, Gia.”

It’s too late now, though, isn’t it?

I don’t say the thought aloud. Instead, I shake my head and say, “I agreed to this, Elio. I helped negotiate the contract.” What I can’t say, of course, is that it’s all part of a plot to completely destroy the Beneventis.

But Elio is part of this world. He knows how it works. He should have known from the beginning that we weren’t destined to last forever.

Now Elio is the one frowning in confusion. “You’re telling me that you agreed to let your father use you as payment for a gambling debt?”

I freeze, my heart jumping up and settling in my throat, becoming a lump I can’t swallow down—but I try anyway. “What do you mean?”

Elio’s face clears, and he lets out a short, harsh laugh. “Oh, my God. You don't know.”

“Don’t know what?” My tone is as harsh as his laugh, undergirded with the horror of what I’m beginning to realize. “Tell me everything you know, Elio.”

He shrugs. “At first I thought it was just a rumor, but I’ve heard it several times now.”

I feel the blood drain from my cheeks as Elio tells me the story going around town.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” he asks as he finishes telling the story of my father betting and then losing me in a poker game to Lorenzo Beneventi.

Without a word, I shove my way past Elio and march back into the dining room.

On my way, I meet Gino, who presumably has decided I’ve been in the bathroom too long and is coming to find me. “Have the car brought around,” I say shortly, my voice hoarse with anger.

I stop at the table long enough to gather my handbag from the back of the chair.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asks.

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