My Don Chose My Best Friend—So I Took His Empire Chapter 2

His grip was hard enough to hurt my fingers.

"I'm just introducing Viola to someone. Why are you so worked up?"

His jaw had been clenched tight.

At those words his fingers released me instantly, and his tone softened.

"I just don't want you setting her up with strangers you don't know and wrecking her life."

"Of course."

Viola set down her bowl and slid her arms around my waist.

"I don't want a relationship right now. I have you. That's enough."

"If Luciano ever mistreats you, come live with me. I'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

She paused, then smiled and stroked my hair.

"But you have to promise me something too. Stop letting your imagination run away with you, okay?"

"Every time you start suspecting Luciano, you're the one who ends up hurting the most."

Her cheek rested against me, exactly the way it had when we were children.

She'd said it countless times these past three years.

"I believe you."

"But maybe this time you really are being too sensitive."

Something closed around my throat. Viola was the one who'd dragged me out of my house when I was being beaten. Viola was the one who'd held me and cried all night after I swallowed those pills.

And here she was, still holding me tight.

Except now Luciano stood between us.

I sat there stunned for half a minute.

Then I slowly pushed her hands away and laid the peeled apple on a plate.

"If you ever fall for someone, you have to tell me."

They both looked at me at the same time.

Luciano's shoulders visibly locked up.

Viola lifted her bowl, her lashes fluttering.

Neither of them said a word.

The truth is, if they had been willing to come clean, I would have stepped aside — even if it cut me to pieces.

Instead, after a moment, Luciano came over and touched my forehead.

"You're tired, aren't you? Let's go home. Viola needs rest."

I stepped back, picked up my bag, and walked out the door ahead of him.

My heart felt like it was being torn in half. Even now, seeing their lies and their betrayal for what they were, I still loved Luciano and I still loved Viola.

God, how I wished none of it were true.

Once the car pulled out of the hospital, Luciano kept glancing over at me.

I leaned against the window and said nothing.

He reached over and touched the back of my hand.

"Are you all right, baby? If it's too much for you, don't cook for Viola next time. I'll have someone arrange her meals."

I pulled my hand away.

His hand froze where it was. A moment passed before he put it back on the wheel.

"Let's not go straight home. I'll take you to dinner."

"Whatever."

Luciano's patience wore down bit by bit. He drummed his fingers twice against the wheel.

"Gianna, why is it always so damn impossible to talk to you? All you ever do is create chaos!"

"Why can't you be more like your good friend Viola? Look at her — always gentle, always understanding."

It came out before I could stop it.

"Sure. Then take me wherever it is you usually take the other girls."

Tires screamed.

My seatbelt was loose. My forehead hit the glovebox and my vision went black for a second.

Luciano took a few deep breaths.

Then, finally, he noticed I was hurt.

He unbuckled and reached for my face, holding it, checking the injury with something close to panic.

His thumb brushed the red mark on my forehead. I turned my head away so he couldn't touch me.

He stared at his empty hand, and the worry on his face slowly curdled into anger.

"Gianna, how many times have I explained it? I am not cheating on you."

Behind us, the horns grew more insistent.

He put his foot back on the gas, chest rising and falling hard.

"You lunatic. When are you finally going to believe me?"

I turned toward the window.

The tears came anyway, sliding down my cheeks.

He pulled into a shopping center parking garage, his voice going soft again.

"That's enough, Gianna. Stop making a scene. Let's just eat."

We headed toward a French restaurant Viola had mentioned to me once.

She'd been sprawled on my sofa, laughing, telling me she'd found the most delicious place and absolutely had to take me sometime.

My vision blurred without warning, because I couldn't stop myself from wondering: the last time someone brought her here, was it Luciano?

The car had barely stopped when Luciano's phone lit up.

No name on the screen. Just a small blue heart.

Before I could get a proper look, he'd flipped the phone face down.

"Client. I'll take it outside."

He pushed the door open and walked a long way off before answering.

Through the window I watched the tension in his brow smooth out, inch by inch.

Then he snapped upright, his voice so bright with excitement that I could hear it from inside the car.

"Are you serious?"