Page 49 of Tyrant (The Villetti Chronicles)

Arlo scoffed.

“I wish the little shit had. He’s already been in contact with Lissa. She’s refusing to see him, which is suspicious.”

“Did she ever tell you what he did before he left?”

“No. I need to make her tell me.”

No doubt Enzo had fucked up somehow.

“Interrogating Lissa won’t end well, you know.”

“Pot. Kettle. Black. Need I remind you of Remi and now, Ari?”

My free hand curled into a fist. I didn’t interfere in Remi’s life… much. It reminded me I needed to check up on her. I didn’t trust Penn within three feet of her and Liza had told me he kept hanging around in Desecration when she was on shift. For someone who had a lot of clients, he spent far too much time in my club watching the girl I thought of as my little sister.

“Maybe I should remind you of who pays you.”

Arlo laughed.

“Ah, Zayn, you wouldn’t cut me off. You need me too much.”

He hung up before I could respond. What was with people today? First, I had my father here, then Ari driving me crazy and now Arlo being a cheeky fuck. I swear it was ‘give Zayn shit day’.

My eyes went to Ari as I tucked my phone back into my pocket. She gave me a smile before going back to slicing a cucumber. Seeing her in my kitchen this way made my chest ache. It was so very domesticated. Something I never wanted… but with her, I didn’t think it would be so terrible.

Whatever dirt Arlo managed to dig up on Derek McGovern for me, one thing was very clear after what Ari had told me last night. That man would never get his hands on my girl. In fact, no one else would ever touch her again if I had anything to say about it.

Arianna belonged to me. I was going to have to swallow that difficult pill and go against both our families if I was ever going to keep her. And make the girl mine completely.

Seventeen

Arianna

If I’d thought laying out all my feelings would change everything between me and Zayn, I’d been mistaken. The past two days, he’d kept me at arm’s length, making me sleep in the room he’d given me and hadn’t kissed me again. To say it upset me was an understatement, but I was trying not to show it. It didn’t help that I was unnerved by Kieran being shot dead. First blood had been drawn. The war neither of us wanted was coming.

I couldn’t blame Zayn for telling me it was impossible for us to be more. I understood his concerns, even the ones he hadn’t voiced out loud. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put together the hints he’d given me about his family. Gennaro expected him to marry and, no doubt, it would have to be someone his father approved of. I wouldn’t meet those standards. Zayn telling me he didn’t want marriage hadn’t made a difference. There was a reason people didn’t cross Gennaro Villetti. It was the same reason my father had gone into business with the man. It was smart to gain favour with the man who controlled the mafia in London.

I let out a sigh as I walked into the living room. Zayn had told me to join him there after lunch. He’d had a meeting with one of his associates earlier, but he’d made me stay upstairs, so I had no idea who it was.

I paused when I spied him lounging on the sofa with his arms resting on the back of it. There was a smile playing on his lips. He wasn’t looking at me, but at something on the coffee table. A wrapped box with a bow on it.

“What’s this?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on it.

“Come here.”

I walked over to him and knelt in between his legs. He leant forward and stroked the wild curls I hadn’t bothered to tame this morning.

“I bought you a present.”

“Why? I haven’t exactly been a good girl.”

He didn’t react to my statement, merely waved at the box.

“Open it, Tink.”

I turned around and shuffled closer to the coffee table. Reaching out, I touched the box, then ripped off the wrapping paper. My hand went to my mouth. He’d bought a digital camera I’d had my eye on for ages. It was expensive, hence I’d not been able to buy it myself. There were no words. How he even knew was a mystery to me. I might have told him I was a photographer, but I didn’t expect him to do this. Hell, I hadn’t expected a single thing I’d learnt about Zayn Villetti. Each small piece I gained, I treasured. It was like fitting together tiny pieces of a puzzle to a man who wore more masks than I could fathom.

I spun on my knees and crawled into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held onto him, needing desperately to show my appreciation for his gift.

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