When we were younger, people had always tried to pit us again each other. They constantly reminded me that no matter how hard I worked or how close I was with Giovanni, he’d be the boss, the man in charge. And despite their father’s hate for him, the plan was always for Maximo to be Giovanni’s second.
I’d always be third best.
But I hadn’t cared about that. I like to excel at things, and I’d never be good as the head of the family. There were ruthless decisions I’d never be able to make. I could carry the orders out, but being the one to say kill the whole family, or light the small business on fire, it’ll show everyone else not to fuck with our money.
I couldn't do those things. So, I didn’t give a fuck about being the man in charge.
But I give more than a few fucks about the way Winter gazed at Giovanni, like she’d forgotten about all the things he’d done to her. As if they were just a normal man and woman and not a captor and a captive.
My fingers crush around the glass, but I decide it’s not enough to focus my anger into it. I throw it across the room, taking some satisfaction in the way it shatters against the wall, the little pieces falling to the ground.
I’ve got to get her out of my head.
It’d probably be best if I just take a night off, go out and find someone else to fuck Winter out of my system. But a part of me knows it’s pointless, especially when I can have the real thing.
Giovanni knows about me fingering Winter that night after she’d been hurt. I knew he’d find out the moment it happened, he finds out everything eventually, after all. He hadn’t said anything to me directly, but he’d made it clear to Winter that he was aware.
And since he didn’t approach me about it, I’m sure he wouldn’t care if I did it again.
But fucking her would be a completely different thing.
And that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to fuck Winter Chastine until neither one of us can form a single thought, from pure exhaustion and satisfaction. But that would be crossing a line for everyone.
Giovanni would be more than pissed. He’s made it clear more than a few times that he knows I’ve grown too close to her. And fingering her is one thing, but fucking her is a completely different animal, one that could stir up too many emotions I don’t want to think of.
I’d be completely fucked, because I haven’t slept with anyone that I have actual feelings for in a long time. Not since her.
And Winter… I’m not sure how she would feel about it.
She wouldn’t turn me down, that I know. But after our last conversation, I know she hates, know she’s finally associating me with the horrible man that I truly am.
And despite what I want from her, I don’t want to fuck with her head any more than I already have, any more than I need to.
I stand up, pacing around my office.
What I need to do is absolutely clear: leave Winter Chastine alone.
I’d nearly self-destructed the last time I let myself get entangled with a woman, and with Winter… I think it’d be the final nail in my coffin, if, no when, something happens to her.
My heart beats quickly in my chest and my hands clench as lifeless green eyes appear in my vision. Black hair a tangled mess between a head with a bullet right in the middle of it.
I can’t go through that with Winter too.
I give myself a nod, mind made up. I need to make sure Winter and I both know where we stand. So, if that means showing her just how horrible I am, then I’ll live with it. I’d rather that than having to watch another woman I’m close to die.