Femme Fatale (Pericolo #1)

He steps toward me, arrogance marring him wholly, and I would just love to steal a slice of his smugness one day; to somehow knock him down a few pegs. I know my wishful thinking is going into overdrive, but you can’t blame me for being a fucking optimistic. He plucks the cigarette from my hand and takes a leisurely drag from it.

“I was watching you earlier and wondering how you got to be so fucking weak, Amelia. I used to admire you in the beginning. You’d seduce these men and do Papà’s will so easily. It was literally like breathing. Then there was Zane and you were granted the ability to live a little, but then he left and you came back harsher and more greedy to just bury yourself in the kind of male attention you could kill. Now, you’re just a mess.”

I snatch the cigarette back and shake my head. “It’s easier to kill a man after sex than it is after he’s made an impression.”

“Ah, like Zane?” he asks and turns to look at me. “His impression is pretty fucking deep, right?”

“We’ve made that observation already, Gio,” I sneer and try my damndest not to lose my temper with him. Around Giovanni, my nerves are ruined and my anger has no restraint. I just bounce off him, and it becomes a regretful exchange between the two of us.

“How could you let him in again, Amelia?” Giovanni’s question travels with a softness about it, a haze of confusion clinching it tightly. “He hurt you once, why are you allowing yourself to be set up for the ultimate hurt? I know it has nothing to do with revenge. The way you responded to him being shot told us all how you really fucking feel about him. There’s no way to dispute it. So why are you messing the family around by telling us you’ll kill him once you’ve had whatever twisted fairytale you want? Why are you giving him time when he doesn’t deserve it? Why are you putting yourself through this when it is never going to end the way you want it to? Why are you granting him this?”

“Like I would tell you anything. It’s not like you’d have some grand understanding of me. You just want something to go back to Papà with.” I laugh skeptically at him and his ulterior motives. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but he knows everything there is to know.”

“You’re a stupid girl, Amelia. It’s about time Papà began to see it. You over think everything, and look where it’s gotten you.” His pause is only used to look at me. “Stupid in love and it’s tearing you apart. Can’t you see that?”

“Don’t judge me,” I snarl at him and drop my cigarette onto the floor. I push my foot onto it, extinguishing it. “Just because you were born without a conscience, doesn’t mean I was, Gio. You can have your fun being truly sadistic and trying to win Papà over, but I will do this my way. Yes, I love Zane, and yes, I am well aware of how he left me before. But things change, people change.” I shake my head, stopping myself from continuing with this. Giovanni and I are not the siblings who have heart to hearts, but near misses, like this one, make me remember when he was so fucked up in the head. “I remember there was a time I actually used to like you. What the fuck happened?”

“He killed our madre.” Giovanni’s response is spoken dryly, and he doesn’t look at me as he says it. “A part of me does hate him for what he did, hell, what he still does to you, but I want his status and I will fight my way to the top. This family needs a re-invention.”

“And you’re the one to do it?” I scoff dubiously and try to withhold my laughter, but it doesn’t work out and I chuckle a little. “You’re actually crazier than I thought. You’d kill us all before your first week was up.” I lean in a little close to him, making sure to invade his personal space. “I hope to God Enzo makes it and you finally get what you deserve. You sick, perverse wannabe.” As I step back, I can see I’ve rattled him. “How about, from this point onwards, you stay away from my business with Zane, and I’ll stay away from whatever murderous business you’re up to. I’m fine pretending you don’t exist, because in my eyes, siblings are the ones who are there for each other. Not ones that offer their little sisters up as bait to traffickers. I’m perfectly okay with four brothers, Giovanni. I learned a long time ago, you are no loss to my life.”

“You’ll regret saying that, Amelia,” he declares, and the threat hits me square on, but I don’t quake with fear.

“Maybe I will, but it feels fucking good right now,” I announce and turn to leave. “Gio, you’re nothing but my supplier now. You aren’t a part of my family. What I do isn’t to impress you or keep you civil anymore.” My comment is chucked over my shoulder with a blasé tone, and I casually make my way back into the house.

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