Choices

GIOVANNI’S POV The laughter grated against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Franco's booming voice, the girls' high-pitched giggles, Salvatore's crude jokes, all of it pressed against my skull until I thought it might crack. I couldn't take it anymore. "Everyone out!" I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the marble floor. "All of you. Get the fuck out now." Silence fell like a hammer. The girls stared at me, wide-eyed, then scrambled toward the door when I took a step forward. Within seconds, the room was empty except for Franco, Alessio, Salvatore, Enzo, and me. I was breathing hard, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. Franco leaned back in his chair, cigar smoke curling around his face. "Feel better?" "No." I grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured myself another glass, my hand shaking. "I don't feel better." "Then talk," Franco said simply. "Tell me what happened." So I did. The words came out in a torrent and when I spoke about Arya, the betrayal twisted in my alre