Page 124 of Giovanna

David keeps his weight on me, trapping me so I have no idea who has walked armed with a gun.

“I’m here this time, David,” Giovanna's voice spits and my whole body relaxes in relief.

My creep of an uncle jumps back, leaving me free to sit up. I’m a mess of tears, smudged makeup, pastry, and snot and I can’t even look at Giovanna.

“She’s right,” Giovanna says, moving towards David. “I will break every single one of your fingers, again, if you so much as think about touching her. The only reason you’ll be walking out of here in a sec is because I won’t be goaded into a turf war over you.”

Now it’s his turn to sag in relief at the news that he won’t be getting a bullet in his brain tonight.

“Get. Out.” she grinds out between gritted teeth. “Now.”

His pride has him pause for a split second, but when Giovanna raises her gun again, he briskly moves to squeeze past her where she stands between the kitchen and the dining table.

He is almost past her when she whips her gun over her shoulder and then back across his face. A large crack indicates she has broken his nose and he staggers away, blood pouring through his hands as he tries to catch it.

“Get. Out.” Giovanna repeats quietly and he scurries out the back door without a backward glance.

She flicks the safety back on and shoves the gun into the back of her pyjama pants. I sit unmoving as she grabs some kitchen roll from the bench and gently wipes the muck off my face.

“I hope you enjoyed my cannoli,” she teases gently, but I remain silent. I won’t allow myself to soften just because she saved me again.

She packs what is left of it into the fridge and leans on the bench assessing me.

“You got Dylan to bring you home?” She asks, serious now. I nod once.

“Good. I’ll take you to get your car in the morning.”

“No need. I’ll ask Massi or Bluey,” my tone is clipped and I suddenly feel a lot more sober than I did when I staggered in the door not long ago.

Using every bit of self-control I possess, I stand and walk out. I say nothing else. I don’t look back when I reach the stairs. I just take myself to my room for another session of crying on the shower floor.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Francesca

“Ugh I feel like death,” I whinge to Sammy. We’re lounging on the reception desk at work, half-heartedly greeting gym goers as they enter and leave.

“Bitch please, you didn’t have to start at 6 am this morning! I only forgive you because you brought coffee,” she groans, taking a sip from the large takeaway coffee I brought with me when my shift started at 10 am.

As far as Sammy knows, I caught a ride home last night with my ‘paid stalkers’, as she calls them, and went straight to bed. I haven’t decided if I’m up to sharing the events of the rest of the evening with her yet.

I battled Bluey and Massimo to let me go to work without my paid stalkers today. Of course, the matter was escalated to Giovanna who relented only because I agreed to Massi dropping me off and picking me up. Plus she knows Stefan is too busy feeding whatever lurks at the bottom of Sydney Harbour to be a threat to me any longer.

It is freeing to not have bored, brooding men in Italian suits lurking in my line of sight all day. I’m not sure how much of my conversations with Sammy they have picked up while on duty, but I heard one of them snort when Sammy called Elio “Rumpleforeskin” the other day.

“Ugh Noodles is here,” Sammy nods at the guy sauntering into the gym. He isn’t bad looking but has major tickets on himself.

Ignoring me, he shoots a cheeky grin at my friend. “Hey Sammy, about time we catch up. Text me.”

The smile she gives him is entirely fake and screams ‘I’m only smiling because I’m on the clock’.

“Why do you call him Noodles?” I ask quietly. The name on the screen, when he swiped in, said 'Todd'.

She grimaces. “He’s done in 2 minutes.”

Coffee sprays out of my nose and from between my pursed lips. I laugh harder than I’ve laughed in ages. “Girl,” I wheeze. “You’re hilarious.”

The roar of motorcycles pulls our attention to the front of the gym. We don’t have many bikies who go to the gym here so it’s unusual to see so many of them parked out the front. They dismount in almost perfect synchronisation and walk as a pack towards the glass doors of the building.

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