Page 50 of Giovanna

“Never. I mean, the whole idea of giving flowers can be so romantic. Like ‘here, I paid way too much money for these beautiful things which will die soon just because I think you’re the bees fuckin’ knees’. Just because.”

“Just because,” she echoes. “You deserve all that and so much more.”

My frustration can’t be contained and I put my head in my hands. “He’s the fucking boss now, Gio. Why doesn’t he just call it off? He has the power, right?”

When I look up I’m surprised to see what looks like guilt on her face. Elio is the Don now and yet he is the one yanking me along on a line while he dicks models and socialites. He must be a complete psychopath.

“It’s Sandy and Paul,cucciolotta,” she whispers. “They’re still exerting a lot of pressure…I can’t really say anything more.” The guilt is definitely there.

“That’s not really good enough though. You guys aren’t kids. You’re supposed to be in charge now.” I shake my head, I’m really angry at Giovanna too. I want her to protect me from this shit, but the reality is that I’m nothing to her beyond a family friend and future sister-in-law.

The high-pitched laugh that has been irritating me for hours drags my attention back to Elio’s beverage model. My tongue rolls in between my bottom teeth and my lip as I watch her climb onto his lap. She straddles him in the exact same spot on the sofa that I did when I first got back to Australia. She throws her head back laughing and shaking her ebony curls.

“Fucksake,” I grumble. I’ve been so careful to remain composed, but seeing the pity on the faces of Elio’s siblings, Sammy, and Bluey is too much.

Wearing just my bikini and Giovanna’s oversized jumper, I stride around the pool toward the man I’m supposed to marry.

I hear an “Oh fuck” from Massimo and “Streuth!” from Bluey. This might not be dignified or composed, but at least it may let me retain a little bit of self-respect.

I’m already yanking the ring off my finger when Elio and I make eye contact. His hands are on the slim hips splayed across him and she keeps bouncing ‘excitedly’ in his lap. I consider grabbing her hand and ramming the ring on her finger, but this isn’t about her. Tomorrow he’ll balls deep in another woman.

When I come to a stop in front of the pair, I pause with my hands on my hips, and for a second I’m afraid I’m going to chicken out and scurry off. Instead, I take a deep breath and hold out the ring to him. The Vodka model looks over her shoulder at my outstretched hand and her eyes pop out of her head as she sees the size of the diamonds up close.Keep dreaming, honey.

“Can’t do it anymore,” I tell Elio, managing to take all the emotion out of my voice. “Have to salvage the tiny bit of self-respect I have left. If you have any say in where I get sent away to this time, I’d like to go back to London.”

He slowly lifts his hand for me to drop the ring in his palm. “We’ll talk about this later,” he bites out coldly.

“Not a lot else to say, to be honest,” I sniff.

His face is completely unreadable and for once he looks serious. The woman on his lap may as well not be there as he growls at me in a low voice, “You don’t want to be making any more of a scene, Francesca.” It’s a cold warning.

“I have bit my tongue for months while you’ve performed, not a scene, but a whole fucking parade of whores. I will not marry someone who won’t treat me with respect.”

The Marino siblings and Bluey are all hovering nearby. They look like a bomb disposal unit moving in on a live UED. Conversations have halted all around us and I have definitely created a scene.

Elio rubs a hand over his super-short hair and sighs. “Go inside, Francesca. We will talk about our marriage later.”

White hot rage surges through me at his dismissal and I can’t help but hiss through my teeth “Go fuck yourself, Elio,” before marching inside.

There’s a gasp from the remaining partygoers at the disrespect I have just publicly shown to essentially the most powerful man in Sydney. A pit grows in my stomach as I wonder if he will decide to make an example of me. I keep moving, but half expect to be collared and dragged back in front of him.

I’m only just inside when Elio’s voice booms out, laughing and deliberately loud enough for all to hear, “You think she’s a firecracker here, you should see her in bed! Side effect of a young wife.”

As everyone laughs I don’t stick around to hear anymore. Even if I’m still humiliated and powerless, I feel better for standing up for myself. Everyone else might be laughing at the mafia brat throwing a tantrum about infidelity, but at least I can look myself in the eye now.

“Cheska!” Massimo calls, hurrying after me closely followed by Sammy. “Wait!”

I stop and allow them to catch up. “I hate him,” I state sadly.

“Right now, so do I,” he replies and throws an arm around my shoulders, the other around Sammy. “Wanna watch a movie?”

As the movie ends I stretch my arms above my head, yawning. “Massi? Can I sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to deal with Elio.”

“Of course, babe.”

We walk through the living area to head upstairs. There are still about twelve people chilling outside, but I can’t spot Elio. Ugh. I need to go get some PJs and my phone charger from his room. Fingers crossed he’s asleep.

I pad down the carpeted hallway towards Elio’s wing, steeling myself to give him the cold shoulder if he is awake. I will not talk to him tonight. Not even if he tries to apologise. Charming me will not work this time.

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