CHAPTER TWO: WINTER
The first thing I'm aware of is the heat coming from the interior of the car and if I had any doubts about the fact that I'm walking into hell, they're quickly dashed.
The devil himself sits on the leather seat, looking like the evil king he is. His leg is crossed over his knee, a phone in his hand. His eyes move over the screen, but otherwise his face is impassive.
A slight nudge to the small of my back has me blinking. Glancing over my shoulder, I find the guard making a gesture with his hand for me to hurry up, his jaw tight.
Pressing my lips together, I step into the car. Giovanni is thankfully sitting flush to the other side of the car, leaning up against the door. I sit as far away as possible from him, my heart skipping a beat when the guard slams the door shut.
I look over the head of the seat and watch as the guard settles into the driver's seat. I keep my eyes on the back of his head, focusing on his dark hair as I continue to ignore the man sitting a foot away from me. Which is a hard feat, since it almost seems like Giovanni broadcasts a foreboding energy that threatens to swallow a person whole.
"Put your seatbelt on."
I turn my head, thinking that I'm crazy, but no, Giovanni Costa's full attention is on me.
And he's nagging me about a seatbelt?
No, I must have hit my head on something and hallucinating or-
"Seatbelt. Put it on. I won't repeat myself again." His face is cold and hard as his brown eyes watch me.
I suck in a breath before reaching for the seatbelt. I try to stop the tremble of my hands as I grasp the belt, but it's of no use. It takes me two tries to get the belt to click in place and the second it does, the car begins to move.
I look at my feet, even as I feel the hot gaze of Giovanni on the side of my neck.
Just make yourself as small as possible and maybe he'll forget that you exist.
I have experience in putting the practice into place. In trying to make myself invisible in the hopes that I won't become a victim to something sinister.
And I also have experience in the act not working.
Because a predator doesn't need to see their prey, not when they can smell them from miles away.
And Giovanni smelt the terror on your skin the second he got out of his car.
The car bumps under me and I blink, biting down on the inside of my lip.
You have fire, Winny, don't let them see that when you get there or they'll do whatever they can to break you.
The advice had come from my brother when he'd met me at my house to ride to the meeting. I don't know what prompted the man to open his mouth when it's usually full of shit. But the advice hadn't done anything but make me angry.
He knows as well as I do that I seem to attract people who always want to break the small spirit I have left.
But not this time, I'm done. I'll tuck my head and pretend to be weak this time, because at this point in life, I'm tired, tired of being strong, tired of trying to just be.
The car ride remains smooth, the interior of the car silent except for the small buzz of the heater. I only take a glance at Giovanni once and I'm unsurprised to find him back on his phone.
His pristine and angular face is pulled into a hard frown, his eyes watching the screen like a hawk. I get a glimpse of an assortment of signet rings on his hand, but before I can study them further I quickly pull my gaze away, not wanting him to take note of my attention.
We move through the city, through parts that are familiar, before we're suddenly in a part of town that I've never been in.
The northside.
Everyone knows who this territory belongs to. The family that claims they're not the mafia, and yet, they have men on every corner of the northside dealing their products. The police precinct is set dead center in the middle of the territory and yet they turn a blind eye. They show up to crime scenes too late and after the blood of the victim has dried on the concrete. After the evidence is gone and altered until the case is closed before it's even open.
But don't call the Casto Family the mafia or the mob.
My eyes widen as we pass by what looks to be a club. There are lights on the side of the building, illuminating the long crowd of people waiting in line to get in. A couple of bouncers stand at the door and their gazes stop, moving to the car as we pass. But I know they can't see through the darkened windows.