“It’s complicated.” I scrubbed my hand down the side of my face, inhaling a deep breath through my nose, frustration coursing through me. Evie’s actions made it difficult to keep her safe. Tony’s suspicion didn’t bode well for my charade to keep Evie out of harm’s way. It was only a matter of time before everything blew up in my face.
“Complicated, how?”
My mind raced for a simple explanation for the treacherous game we were playing. The temptation to tell the truth weighed heavy in my thoughts. The minute I opened my mouth to confide in Tony, I stopped. If my father taught me anything over the years, it was that I couldn’t trust anyone, especially with my words and thoughts. According to him, they could become my worst enemy, and right now, I understood exactly what he meant. I made my bed, and I needed to keep my mouth shut and stay the course.
If I confessed to lying about my relationship with Evie, Dominick would lose it. Except now Evie wouldn’t be the only one with her ass on the line. Dominick would consider my lie a betrayal of the family, and in a matter of days, we’d both find ourselves on the Trassato hit list. My position, my dad, Dominick being my uncle—none of it would matter.
“We got in a fight. There’s nothing to tell.”
“A fight about what?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. Since when do I have to answer to you?” I opened the front door. “Fatt’ i cazzi tuoi. Now get out of here. I don’t need you anymore tonight.”
His dark brows snapped together. “I thought you still needed to take care of some stuff at the club.”
“Yeah, well, plans change.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “In fact, it’s the weekend. Go do whatever you need to do for a couple of days. I need some time alone with Evie.”
“Well, you watch yourself, got it? We don’t need any trouble with Carlo breathing down our necks.” He jerked up his chin and slapped my shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything, eh?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Evangeline
My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked a few times, struggling to adjust to the inky darkness of the room. After checking into the hotel, I stripped off my shoes and my jeans and climbed into the bed in a long-sleeve shirt. Worrying had kept me from sleeping soundly for days, so it didn’t surprise me when I feel asleep almost immediately.
I glanced at the clock.
12:58 a.m. and I was fully awake.
Sighing, I moved to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. Mid-reach, the shadows shifted, and I realized what had woken me. A man stood at the side of my bed.
My heart banged against my ribcage with enough force that I was surprised I didn’t hear a bone crack. A scream burst from my lips, but like lightning, a hand covered my mouth. I dug my fingernails into the man’s hands, thrashing, my hair curtaining my face.
“Jesus, Evie. Relax. It’s me.”
I froze, and my vision focused on the man looming over me, his features hidden in the shadows.
“Gian?” I whispered when he lifted his hand. “What are you doing here?”
He flipped on the light next to the bed. “What do you think I’m doing here?” he asked, his quiet response laced with enough displeasure to make my stomach to flip over.
I scrambled to sit up, my back pressed against the wooden headboard, clutching the starched white sheet to my chest. “I…I…” I swallowed over the emotion stuck in my throat. “I don’t know.”
Pacing along the side of the bed, he pointed his finger at me, his eyes heavy-lidded. “You think I should ignore the fact that my fiancée climbed out of my bathroom window and checked into a hotel across town? You think I should go on with my life and pretend you didn’t make me into some fucking joke and put both of us in danger with your half-assed plan to escape? You think that’s reasonable? You think that sounds like something I would do?”
I curled my fingers a little tighter around the sheet. “Fake fiancée,” I said through gritted teeth.
He halted. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.” I tossed the sheet off my legs and jumped out of the bed. I wouldn’t get anywhere, cowering under the covers like a frightened child. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I planted my palm against the center of his chest, ignoring the wall of muscles underneath the pads of my fingers. “Nothing I do is your business. Not where I go. Not who I talk to. Hell, if I wanted to go out and fuck strangers at the bar night after night, you couldn’t say a damn thing because we have a fake relationship. You get that? Fake. Let me spell it for you in case you didn’t catch what I said: F. A. K. E.”