She grimaced every time Franco directed even a glance her way. She turned as cold as ice if he did touch her. And when Franco did touch Kim, Gio burned red hot inside. Sweet Jesus, what did I do this time? Betrayal rested heavily in his gut, leaving behind a bad aftertaste. Kim lied to him in New York. Or rather, hid something incredibly important in regards to her relationship status. It wasn’t like Gio was a goddamn saint. He certainly didn’t mess with women who were spoken for by made men. Gio was in so much shit he could practically feel his eyeballs turning brown. There were only so many rules La Cosa Nostra held in esteem, after all. Sleeping around with a guy’s girl was one—a big one. Kimberlynn fucking Abella. Gio still couldn’t wrap his head around it. His dick, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Being in the same room with Kim brought up that night all over again.
