CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
“KISSING THE DEVIL”

SCARLETT DEL GATO

Giovanni has been out cold for one and a half days straight.

I’ve been in the infirmary for about ten hours in those entire one and a half days but every time I would look at the white bandage wrapped around his shoulder and how pale he still was after he lost so much blood the last time, I walked out of the infirmary and disappeared as fast as I could to my room.

He took a bullet for me trying to get me out of his Maserati.

He took a bullet because he wanted me to be safe and now he was lying on the bed in the infirmary, fighting for his life with every minute that passed.

Kallie did an amazing job by stopping the bleeding and stitching him up, but now it was the dangerous game of waiting for him to wake up. She kept him in a drug-induced coma for a few hours of the first day he was shot, but then she decided to wait for him to wake up on his own.

I hated waiting.

Vito hated waiting.

His dad hated waiting.

My phone vibrates on my nightstand. I lean over, grabbing my phone and unlocking it only to see that it was multiple messages and missed calls from Eden.

“Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Eden: Why weren’t you at school today? Is everything okay at the hottie’s mansion?

That message was sent two days ago, the day after Diablo knocked me out. I didn’t go to school because Giovanni wanted me to stay home to get my headaches under control.

Eden: I’m getting worried here.

That message was sent yesterday. I didn’t go to school yesterday because it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to leave the mansion until Giovanni was out of the danger zone.

Eden: If you don’t answer your phone in two minutes, I’m going to drive over to the mansion and kill the brothers for making me worry. And then I’m going to kill you for not answering your freaking phone!

That message was sent exactly two minutes ago. I quickly type back a message before she actually drives to the mansion and kills the brothers for making her worry.

Well, only Vito seeing that Giovanni was already—

I swallow hard, not wanting to think of the worst possibilities.

Scarlett: Yes. I’m safe. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner. I was occupied.

I can’t exactly tell her that I was nearly killed by Diablo in the woods the other day and I didn’t want to tell her that Giovanni was shot. That would only make her worry more and I don’t think I can deal with her concerns right now when I have some concerns of my own, like waiting for Giovanni to wake up.

She messages back almost immediately. My phone barely locked itself when her message came through. I can sense her relief through the phone.

Eden: Oh thank God you’re okay! I was about to grab my car keys.

I wanted to type a message but she sends another one right when my finger lingered on the keyboard of the phone.

Eden: And occupied? With what exactly? Riding your knight in shining armour when you’re supposed to be at school?

Even though I was so worried about Giovanni, I still managed a chuckle. Eden always knew how to make me feel slightly better in the most impossible of circumstances.

But after I chuckled at her message, I felt guilt gnawing at me.

Giovanni was in the infirmary fighting for his life while I was here laughing at a joke my best friend sent. The smile disappears from my face.

Scarlett: Of course not. I was just occupied.

Eden: Liar. I know you.

Scarlett: Now is not the time to joke.

Eden: I know you’re blushing.

Yes, I was blushing because Eden always created a mental image inside my brain when it came to the Castiglione brothers, well, a specific Castiglione brother, that is.

Scarlett: I don’t know when I’ll be back though. Something came up and I have to stay at the mansion a little longer.

I message her.

Eden: It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. Just stay safe please. And don’t have too much fun without me. I’ll see you again when I see you.

I shake my head, placing my phone onto the nightstand again.

I sigh loudly, swiping my hands across my face.

“Who are you messaging?” A voice asks, nearly making me jump through the ceiling.

I turn my head so fast thinking I was dreaming, but there he was, standing beside the bed with his arm in a tight sling.

Giovanni.

“You’re supposed to be resting!” I almost yell. “And why didn’t Vito tell me you’re awake? I was so worried and—”

Giovanni chuckles, sitting down on the right side of the bed. “I wanted to surprise you.” He smiles. “And I wanted to come here to complain about how uncomfortable this fucking sling is. I haven’t even had it on for that long yet and I’m already starting to get annoyed with the damn thing.”

Even though I was so relieved that he was okay and that he was sitting beside me like he wasn’t shot at all a few days ago, I still managed to glare at him for laughing and wincing when he noticed that it hurt.

“You’re supposed to be resting and healing that shoulder of yours.”

“Come on.” He argues. “I’m fine.”

He shuffles a little bit but groans when the brace wasn’t going anywhere. I could tell that the thing around his arm was really making him uncomfortable, but that was keeping everything intact, so he just had to suck it up and to bear with it for a few days, if not months.

“So, are you going to tell me who you were messaging before I interrupted your blushing?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Just Eden.” I shrug.

And the fact that she made me picture all the things I shouldn’t have been picturing in the first place.

“Just Eden, huh?” He asks with a smirk as if he could read my thoughts. “And what does the blushing have to do with Eden? Or did you imagine riding your knight in shining armour.”

He read the message.

How long was he standing in my room?

“I, uh, I— Eden’s always inappropriate some days.” I defend.

“Relax.” He chuckles. “I was just kidding.”

He starts to shuffle again, trying to loosen the sling but I grab his shoulder to stop him from moving any further. “Stop moving. You’re just going to hurt yourself more.”

He pouts like a child and I couldn’t stop myself from snorting at the sight. He was acting like a damn child who didn’t get his way with things and something told me that he didn’t like being told what to do.

He rolls his eyes at me. “You can be so bossy sometimes.”

“I am not bossy.” I defend, letting my hand fall to my lap again. “I’m just worried about you. You lost a lot of damn blood and now you’re prodding around the mansion like you didn’t get shot at all.”

He shrugs. “I already told you that getting shot a few days ago wasn’t my first rodeo. I walked that road before and I will walk it multiple times again because that is what our job entails. We fight. We win wars. We retaliate.” He takes a breath and looks at me through those thick eyelashes of his. “And besides, I am perfectly fine. I promise.”

I release a heavy sigh and tuck a strand of my loose hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry I left the mansion the other day. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have been shot and—”

“It’s not your fault.” He says, shaking his head at me. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about your house not being burnt down. Hell, I shouldn’t have done a lot of things but here we are… I can’t take back what happened, but I can try to be better.”

I smile at him.

“And besides, I didn’t come here to be emotional and talk about what could’ve been and all that crap. I came here because I want to discuss a very important matter.”

My eyes widen and I feel panic bubble up inside me. “What is it? Is everything okay?” My stomach churns when he looks at me with seriousness across his face.

“About the kiss—”

At first I didn’t think I heard him very well, but when it kicked in, a relieved breath escaped through my lips. I thought he was here to throw me out, not talk about the damn kiss I nearly forgot about.

I was just too worried about him recovering to even think about the kiss we shared the other day. I nearly forgot about it, but he clearly didn’t.

“You remember that?” I ask, gulping.

I didn’t think that he would remember something as little as the kiss we had a few days ago. I thought he would’ve forgotten about it, but I was so wrong.

“Of course I remember the kiss.” He says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How could I not?”

Was that a bad thing or a good thing?

“Okay, what about the kiss then?” I ask him, biting my lower lip.

He scratches the back of his neck with his okay hand. “Was it out of instinct or did you actually really want to kiss me?” He asks, sounding hopeful.

He looks at me so intently, his blue eyes looking right into my soul as I try to figure out what the kiss really meant.

What did the kiss really mean?

Was it because was on the verge of dying or was it the fact that I actually wanted to kiss him?

“I, uh, I don’t know what it meant. It was one crazy day and I was just so relieved when everyone came out alive, barely, but alive. But—”

I read his face as I speak and see how his expression softens and a small smile appears onto his mouth. It was soft, but it definitely was there.

“What?” I ask him when all he does is just stare at me without saying anything at all. He was just staring at me with those blue eyes of his.

“I didn’t hear anything about you not enjoying the kiss.”

I look at him.

He looks at me.

“There was a ‘but’ before you decided to cut me off.” I add.

“But what then?”

He was worried suddenly.

“But I kissed you, and I did enjoy it.” I admit. I still remember the taste of mint and nicotine on my tongue after the kiss, even through the tears and everything else that happened that day. “And when you were lying with your head in my lap, losing blood with every second that passed, I felt sick to the stomach because I didn’t want to lose you and—”

I abruptly get cut off again when he places his lips against mine, ever so gently. His soft, warm lips moved slowly against mine like he was savouring each moment slowly.

He lets go of my hand to grip my hair gently, pulling me closer to his lips.

His sling was the only thing separating the two of us.

His tongue traces my bottom lip and the next thing I know, I allow him to deepen the kiss, his tongue grazing over mine as he explores my mouth.

I taste him on my tongue, mint with a hint of nicotine again, just like the last time before I noticed that he got shot.

The taste was more than intoxicating.

He made me feel entranced.

It made me feel things I’ve never felt in my entire life; an excitement I’ve never felt before.

Our breaths mix.

Our tongues move in sync.

He pulls away from my lips, resting his head against my forehead while I try to regain myself.

Once our breathing normalised, he looks at me, his lips puffy and pink, but his hand stays firmly at the back of my head, his fingers tangled through my loose hair.

“You really have to stop cutting me off when I want to talk to you.” I tease, feeling a smile creep unto my lips.

“What were you going to say?”

“I can’t remember because you cut me off.”

He laughs, his warm breath fanning across my face. “I’m not going to lie, but I can’t even remember what day it is after the kiss.”

I shake my head at his silliness.

“I have to go sort some things out with my dad.” He says after a few seconds of silence, sighing afterward.

He caresses the back of my neck, but doesn’t get up from the bed to leave. Hell, I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to stay here with me, but he needs to talk to his dad about my living arrangements.

“Then go.” I gently shove him. “Go talk to your dad. But after the talk with your dad, you need to rest. I don’t want to hear anything else.” I tell him.

“Okay, I will.” He promises.

He leans in again and places a kiss against my forehead before he gets up from my bed.

He leaves me room, closing the door behind him while I try to connect the dots to what just happened.

Giovanni freaking Castiglione just kissed me.

Gently too.

Who knew he could be gentle?

Even though it was still early in the morning, I felt a wave of tiredness washing over me.

I was relieved that Giovanni was okay. When he was in the drug induced coma, I couldn’t think about anything else but his recovery.

It was odd, really: me wanting him to recover even after everything he did.

I fall back against my pillows, wondering how I got here in the first place. I kissed Giovanni Castiglione, the person who might’ve shot my brother. But why did it suddenly not feel like Giovanni was the one who shot my brother in the first place.

Yes, he was there, and yes, he had a gun pointed at him… but it doesn’t make sense.

The nightmares…

The White Pistols coming after me…

What secrets am I not supposed to find out?

Diablo saying that my brother couldn’t choose a side…

And now their dad saying that I was in the middle of it all.

Why?

Nothing made sense.

One option is to find Diablo and demand some answers from him, but he won’t talk to me.

The other option is talking to the White Pistols to demand some answers.

There are three things that can go wrong with those options.

One: Vito and Giovanni won’t let me go, not on my own at least, and then two: is that I would be literally walking to my own grave when going to the White Pistols’ safe house.

And three: then the thing that can go wrong with Diablo is that he might kill me after I get him to talk to me, if he doesn’t kill me for annoying him.

All options above are lethal and beyond reckless but definitely necessary if I wanted to get to the bottom of everything.

Vito comes into my room with a metal tray in his hands with a plate of breakfast onto it: eggs, bacon, two slices of toast and a glass of orange juice.

He sees me lying on the bed and smiles apologetically at me. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were sleeping…” he says, making his way over to the bed before sitting the tray down onto the nightstand.

I sit up in the bed and shake my head. “I wasn’t sleeping. Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“It’s nothing you can help me with. Thank you, though.” I smile at him.

“I’m worried about you.” He says, knitting his eyebrows together in a small frown. “You kind of switched off on me after Giovanni got shot. You barely came out of your room.” He says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He was right.

I was only in the infirmary most of the time and in my room.

“It’s the thing with your dad.” I admit. “He already doesn’t like me so I didn’t want to run into him again.” I tell him. “And the thing with Giovanni was getting to me. I wasn’t in the mood for anything like school and dealing with the homework while your brother was fighting for his life.”

Vito nods, grimacing when he looked at the ground. “Yeah, the thing with Giovanni was bad… I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. I just shut down too I guess but I had to stay strong for him.”

“You were handling the situation very well, Vito.” I tell him. “You stayed strong for your brother, all this time when you could’ve broken down like I did a few times.”

He gives a half smile before he squeezes my shoulder. “Thank you, Scarlett. I appreciate it.” He lets go of my shoulder, his hand resting beside him again. “So, I’ve never had the chance to ask you but what did you and my dad talk about when we brought Giovanni in the other day?”

My smile fades immediately when he mentions his dad.

I never told him about what he said to me, and I don’t think that I really want to. From what it looks like, they don’t really have a great relationship and telling him now what he said will only ruin what they already have.

“Nothing much.” I say softly. “He just wanted to know what happened in detail. I didn’t mention the house and anything related to the house or the White Pistols at all, so don’t worry about that.” I chuckle nervously.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you told him about what happened at your house. He already wants to start a fight with the White Pistols so that would’ve just thrown more fuel onto the fire.”

“I can imagine…” I sigh. “The White Pistols are troublemakers.”

Vito gives a mindless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, he didn’t say anything else to you?”

I frown, biting my lower lip.  “No, why? Was he supposed to say something else other than the Giovanni thing?”

“No, I just wanted to know because my dad, he—”

“He wants me out of the house? I know that already.” I assure him. “I heard a conversation between Giovanni and your dad the other day. He was not happy, at all.”

“When is my dad ever happy?” Vito jokes.

“True…” I chuckle, “anyways, is Giovanni really doing okay? He didn’t put on a façade trying to hide his pain from me, did he?”

“No. I believe he’s really doing okay.” Vito says, assuring me. “He’s tough and very strong too. Don’t worry about him, Scarlett.”

“I know he’s really strong, but I believe that even the strongest person can show some sort of break in their façade. Giovanni might hide his pain very well, but his eyes… his eyes told me that he was trying so hard to hide the pain.”

“I agree with you. But he grew up in tough circumstances. So don’t mistake his pain for weakness. He knows how to fight through the pain. With you, it’s different. It’s like his guard is down whenever he’s with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Giovanni never admitted that he was hurt before, but when he’s with you, he shows emotion. He doesn’t hide it when you’re near.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I frown, trying to process his words.

“No,” Vito says quickly, “it’s not a bad thing at all. It’s just; I believe that his weakness is you. If something happens to you, he will hurt anything in his path and kill anyone who wants to stop him. My dad included. That’s why he was so adamant trying to get our dad to let you stay. If he doesn’t, Giovanni will move out with you just to be around you—to protect you.”

He did mention that he would move out with me if his father didn’t allow me to stay here, but hearing it from Vito now too… Would he really move out just to keep me safe?

“When did this sudden protective side come from?” I chuckle. “Just a few weeks ago he wanted me dead.” I laugh, fiddling with my hands in my lap.

“Since that day when the two of you came back shopping.” Vito answers. “Vincent—the guy he killed—he had bad intentions when he talked to you. Giovanni knew it and that’s why he shot him. He did it to protect you.”

“But I thought he shot him because he had something to do with the bakery being broken down?” I couldn’t hide the confusion in my voice.

“He said that because he didn’t want you to know Vincent’s true intentions with you. He would rather let you hate him than do anything to jeopardize your safety.” Vito says, not a single hint of a lie evident in his eyes.

He was telling the truth. Giovanni cared about me.

“Wow.” I swallow hard. “I didn’t know he cared so much about me.”

But he kissed you! Obviously he cares about you. My conscious reminds me.

“Yeah, he does. Very much.” Vito says, running his hand down his thigh before he gets up from my bed. “But enough of that… Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

I nod, watching him leave my room.

Giovanni told me that he killed Vincent because of the bakery, because he wanted to send a message. He never told me that Vincent had bad intentions with me.

I shake my head, trying to process everything Vito had said. Giovanni cared about me and he’s willing to leave with me if his dad throws me out.

But why?