Page 23 of Giovanna

She tastes like heaven.

My need for her is only increasing. I need to see what she looks like when she comes apart in pleasure.

But, I can’t see her eyes anymore. Look at me! I need to see you, baby.

Wait, are my eyes shutting? Everything is going dark.

She’s disappearing. Where are you going, beautiful?

It’s not fair!

“Gio!”

I’m jolted awake by Matteo’s voice and a sharp rapping on the open door. Disoriented I look around and realise I fell asleep on the sofa in my office.

Shaking my head as if to blow out all the cobwebs, I croak at Matty to come in. “I wasn’t sleeptalking was I?”

That dream was fuckin’ filthy and I seriously hope I wasn’t narrating it for my brother to hear.

I have never been so attracted to a woman in my life. Another cruel joke played on me by a world that seems to get a lot of laughs at my expense. Not only does Elio get to pretend to be the head of our family while I do the hard graft in the background, but he also gets the girl. Not that he even wants her.

“Nah, but if you’re worried about that I’m curious what you were dreaming about!” he winks and saunters in to take a seat in front of my desk.

“Nothing interesting,” I reply gruffly. “What’s up?”

“There’s a lot of grumbling about Elio not being up to the job,” he says quietly as if the topic will become less awkward if he only whispers.

“How much is being driven by Stefan being a dirty termite?” I stand and pull two glasses from the drinks cupboard.

Dark amber liquid splashes into one crystal tumbler and then another. I plug the decanter and hand Matty his glass before taking a generous sip from mine.

“Stefan has been busy. He is in the ear of everyone who will listen. But…the concerns aren’t exactly invented by him. The older capos are worried Elio is distracted by pussy and partying and…well, he is.”

Stefan may as well have stayed in Melbourne. Elio doesn’t need any assistance undermining the Family and eroding decades of respected reputation.

A non-committal grunt is all I give him in response to the last part of his sentence. “Have you been able to gauge Alberto’s involvement in this? Is Stefan acting under orders from his father-in-law or…?”

Sigh.Never underestimate the ability of 70-year-old men to hold on to grudges. Women are unfairly characterised as the creators of drama, but good grief, Dad and his friends are the perfect examples of how petty, bitchy, and destructive men can be.

It’s been, what? Eighteen or so years since Dad put an end to Alberto’s attempts to take over Sydney. I was just sixteen when I had to go into hiding with four kids in tow. Alberto’s men pelted our home with bullets that night and in the weeks that followed.

All in all, we were nearly two months on the road. The heirs to the MarinoFamiglia. We had two very close calls with men sent to track us and had to move twice to different safe houses.

By the end of the turf war, I was nearly nineteen and my role was no longer that of full-time babysitter. Sure I still looked after the bambinos sometimes, but I spilled as much blood as any of my father’s men in the final days of the conflict.

The idea that Alberto could be mounting another attack sent a cold chill through my bones. My siblings may have been too young to see the realities of the turf wars of the early 2000s, but I remember all too well. We won, yes. But fuck was there a cost.

As is always the way in mafia families, things are more complex now because Paul’s estranged son Stefan married into Alberto’s family. It was probably hatred of Paul Rossi that drove Stefan and Alberto’s daughter Allegra to pack up and move to Melbourne after they married.

Stefan immediately began to work for Alberto and rose quickly through the ranks. This is why his return to Sydney is so suspicious. He has nothing to gain from being here unless he has a big power play up his sleeve. He has to be here to take power, but whether it is for himself or Alberto remains to be seen.

“Nothing confirmed, but my gut tells me Alberto has at least signed it off. We gotta treat this like he’s gearing up to attempt another takeover,” Matty echoes my thoughts.

“Yeap. Nothing like a baptism of fire, huh?”

“Well, at least life won’t be boring,” he shrugs. “By the way, the little birdies have reached the Police Commissioner and he wants to meet with Elio to discuss it all.”

“Phil Trotter reached out to you?”

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