CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2: Giovanni's POV

Four Weeks Earlier…

        I buckled my belt as I left the bed. I never slept with the same woman twice, I never let anyone get that close. I walked out of my club and got into my car, the glow of the neon signs flickering against the dark sky. I lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag as I exhaled into the night.

Marco Belluci set up a meeting with me. I was hesitant at first, but curiosity got the best of me, why would the motherfucker want to see me?

And not just that, his presence in LA, on my turf, meant that if I wasn’t satisfied by the end of the meeting, I could kill him. Blood for blood. His bastard of a father had killed her. I was out for blood.

“Benvenuto, Signore,” Chastity greeted as I entered the mansion, her warm smile a stark contrast to the cold world we lived in. I pecked her on the cheek, the scent of her perfume lingering on my skin. My mother was a crack addict, and to be honest, I never gave a fuck about her. But Chastity, she raised me right and I respected her.

“Someone is here for you,” she said softly. I nodded as I made my way up the stairs to my office. 

Lorenzo stepped into my path, blocking my way, his expression sharp and wary. “Gio, what the fuck is that motherfucker doing here?” Some of my men looked on, curious but silent. Lorenzo was my underboss, loyal as hell, my brother by choice, not blood.

“I’d keep my fucking voice low if I were you,” I scowled, walking past him into the office. He followed, gun cocked and ready.

Marco looked back at him and raised a brow—the cocky bastard. Then he looked back at me. “There’s no need for that. Have a fun night at the brothel, Moretti?”

“You have ten seconds, Bellucci. Before he puts a bullet through your fucking skull,” I grated, voice slow and deliberate, pinning him with my eyes.

“Easy,” he said, raising his hands. Lorenzo lowered his gun, though his finger still hovered near the trigger.

“I came here alone and unarmed because I need your help,” Marco continued, his tone steady.

I motioned for Lorenzo to put his gun away. “With what?”

He hesitated a beat before answering. “I want to kill my father.”

My eyes narrowed. So, he knew how much I hated his father and how I’d sabotaged their family over the years to get my revenge. But there was one thing I needed to do, to cap it all off, and this motherfucker was offering it to me on a silver platter.

“And you're telling me this, why?” I asked, trying to gauge his true intentions.

“Because you're the only one who has the balls enough to do it. Others are too fucking scared of the bastard,” he said, anger flickering in his eyes, truth in his voice.

“You could just put a bullet through the fucker’s skull,” Lorenzo piped in, voice low, almost a whisper. “Then it’d be hard for him to take over as Don, especially if anyone found out he did it.”

“Not when I want you as an ally,” Marco said, voice calm but firm. Over my dead body, I thought. I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I leaned back in my chair, smiling faintly. Marco raised his brow, expecting a response.

“What's in it for me?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I do know that you’ve sabotaged my family over the years. Maybe he took something from you, too,” Marco admitted, his gaze steady.

I studied him carefully. “You knew I was onto him, why not report it? Gain his favor?”

He sneered. “I’d die before I’d serve that bastard.”

This deal was hard to refuse. I shot a glance at Enzo—he nodded subtly, knowing how much I needed this.

“When?” I asked.

**********

Four Weeks Later…

“What's the plan here?” I heard Carlos ask as he nibbled on a piece of gum, the dim streetlights casting long shadows across the interior of my car. We’d arrived in Chicago a few nights ago. I couldn’t wait to put a bullet right through his eyes.

“You would know if you’d been listening when we fucking planned it,” Diane’s thick Italian accent slipped through my earpiece as she cursed. And I heard her fingers tapping away at her laptop.

“Oops, easy, Mami. I didn't mean to scratch the tiger,” Carlos said, a smirk lacing his voice.

“You fucking bastard…,” Diane started, but Lorenzo cut her off sharply.

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered. Thank God. The constant chatter was giving me a migraine. The rest of my men heard the exchange but stayed silent.

When my father died and I took over as Boss, Lorenzo was the only man who stayed loyal. The fucker could take a bullet for me if it came to it. Diane had a debt to pay and stuck with me since then. Carlos, the youngest, was my consigliere.

“Approaching the Belluci house in T-minus 5 minutes,” one of my men announced.

I tapped my earpiece. “Enzo, go over the plan one last time.”

“Any moment now, Diane should start working on hacking the cameras,” he said and she hummed, her fingers still frantically going over the keys.

“How many minutes would that give me?” Carlos asked.

“Five minutes max. If they don’t notice they’re looking at a loop,” she responded, still frantically typing.

“With the cameras off, Carlos will lead two men to destabilize the guards at the entrance. That’ll give you and me, and the rest of the men, enough time to infiltrate the party,” he said.

“Let's hope that fucker keeps to his side of the deal,” I muttered as Diane announced she had control over the cameras.

The Belluci mansion—built on the blood of the innocent. It was a sight to behold, truly. I sat in the car, waiting in the shadows, the faint hum of engines and distant chatter filling the night air.

“Clear,” Carlos grunted, not sounding the least bit disgruntled. Lorenzo, me , and the others moved to the backdoor. Marco was supposed to let us in. 

After about thirty seconds, the door swung open, and he led us inside.

“Took you fucking long enough,” he grated.

“Careful,” Lorenzo growled, gun in hand.

“The target is just him, the rest of my family lives,” he emphasised. I gave him a cool look.

“Hey, hey. The rest of my fucking family lives,” he said, standing in my way. I wasn't so sure about that. Seeing any of them alive made my blood boil. I would have killed this fucker too if he hadn't handed his father's head to me on a silver platter.

“Are we doing this or what?” I pushed past him walking into the grand ballroom. That was when I saw her, all by herself at the corner, her black hair a sharp contrast to her pale skin, full pouty lips and a sinful body that could make any made man give up all he had. 

I wanted to have her in my bed for the night. What I wouldn't do to have that silky hair wound tightly around my hand and my cock stretching her until she was begging me to stop. I felt my cock harden at the thought.

Her deep blue eyes met mine, curious. My gaze flicked to her neck, the diamonds she wore, her tailored dress, and the Belluci crest tattooed on her finger. That was when it dawned on me.

With her eyes still on me, I turned to her brother.

“Didn't mention you had a sister, Belluci,” I said, feeling her eyes shift from me to him.

“Mirabella stays out of this,” he said, his eyes commanding her to move away. But she didn’t. She stared right back at me with defiance in her eyes. Brat. Hmm, I didn’t expect Bellucci to raise his daughter to have a bone of rebellion in her.

“There are guards in here, Don,” Lorenzo reminded me. I nodded.

“Take them out. Salvatore Belluci is mine,” I said, cocking my gun. My eyes zeroed in on my target, who was talking to a group of men. His sleazy, calculating smile caught my attention.

I took my aim and fired, quick and precise. The bullet zipped through the air and went right through his skull. His eyes met mine as he fell, a look of shock frozen on his face. Screams broke out around us as chaos erupted, people scrambling in the gunfire that ensued. Rest in hell, motherfucker.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mirabella. Her eyes wide with shock, clutching a gun tightly in her trembling hands. That would be Marco Bellucci’s problem to deal with now. I winked at her and walked out of the house, my mission accomplished.