62. Silence

I stare at Russo D'errico in silence, unable to move. I don't know what it was about him but he always made me so nervous.

Say something! I willed myself to speak but my tongue refused to move.

"Well, well..." Russo's voice oozed with condescending mirth as his pale eyes slowly raked over me with undisguised insolence. "The little American tart who has caused our family such delightful complications."

The cutting insult landed like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs and leaving me gaping wordlessly. I watch in confusion. What complications?? awash in shame and indignant fury, as that sickening smirk stretched wider across Russo's features.

"That's enough, zio."

Giovanni's tone was soft yet laced with an unmistakable edge of quiet menace as he seemingly materialized in the doorway behind his uncle. Russo barely spared him a contemptuous glance over his shoulder, a derisive sneer curling his lip.

"Feeling protective of your plaything, nipote?" he taunted with an arc