Chapter 7 - Tyler’s Reckless Move
The armored Maybach navigated the winding streets through the rain, heading away from the glittering high-rises toward Jessica's modest neighborhood. When the car stopped outside the brick apartment building where Camila lived, Jessica felt a surreal sense of dislocation. The black luxury vehicle looked entirely out of place beside the rusted sedans and cracked sidewalks.
Giovanni stepped out into the downpour first, holding a massive black umbrella over Jessica as she climbed out. He didn't look down his nose at the graffiti on the mailboxes or the flickering fluorescent bulbs in the narrow hallway. He walked beside her up the three flights of stairs with calm, quiet dignity.
When Jessica unlocked the door, Camila was waiting in the small living room with a mug of chamomile tea. The moment Camila saw the towering, immaculately dressed man stepping into the apartment behind Jessica, she dropped her mug onto the coffee table.
""Holy mother of God,"" Camila whispered, clutching her chest. ""Jess... who is this? Did you rob a museum?""
""Camila, this is Giovanni,"" Jessica breathed, kicking off her heels. ""Where is Lily?""
""Still asleep in the bedroom,"" Camila said, her eyes darting between Giovanni’s imposing frame and Jessica’s pale face. ""Jess, what happened? Why do you look like you just survived a crime scene?""
Before Jessica could explain, heavy footsteps echoed loudly from the stairwell outside. The thin wooden door rattled violently as someone pounded against it with brutal force.
""Jessica! Open this damn door right now!""
It was Tyler.
Jessica gasped, stepping back instinctively. Giovanni didn't flinch. He placed one hand on Jessica’s shoulder, gently moving her behind his back, and reached into his inner jacket pocket with fluid, deadly precision.
The pounding continued, frantic and erratic. Tyler had clearly followed them from the venue or tracked Jessica’s phone through an old shared account.
""Open the door, Jessica! I know you're in there with that criminal!"" Tyler screamed through the wood, his voice slurred with alcohol and blind rage. ""You think you can humiliate my wife in front of her friends?! You think you can bring a mobster into our lives?! I have the police on speed dial! I’m taking Lily tonight! You're an unfit mother!""
The bedroom door cracked open, and a tiny, terrified voice called out from the dark hallway. ""Mama? Who is shouting?""
Lily stood there in her oversized cartoon pajamas, rubbing her sleepy eyes, clutching her purple stuffed rabbit.
The sight of her daughter shattered Jessica's composure. ""Lily, go back inside the room, baby! Close the door!""
Tyler kicked the outer door violently, splintering the cheap wooden frame around the deadbolt. ""Open it or I kick it off the hinges!""
Giovanni’s eyes darkened into pure, lethal midnight. He didn't draw a weapon; he didn't need to. He stepped forward, unlocked the deadbolt with a single twist of his wrist, and wrenched the door open.
Tyler, off balance from preparing another kick, stumbled forward into the entryway. He reeked of gin, his bow tie undone, his tuxedo jacket stained with rain. In his right hand, he held a heavy iron tire iron he had grabbed from his trunk.
""You bastard—"" Tyler raised the iron bar, lunging forward with drunken fury.
He never even came close.
Giovanni moved like a viper. In a single, blinding blur, his left hand snapped out, catching Tyler’s wrist and twisting it downward with sickening leverage. A sharp crack echoed through the apartment, followed by Tyler’s piercing shriek of agony. The tire iron clattered uselessly onto the linoleum floor.
Before Tyler could fall, Giovanni’s right hand clamped around his throat like a steel vise, hoisting the grown man off his feet and slamming him hard against the hallway wall. Tyler choked, his legs kicking uselessly in the air, his eyes bulging in pure terror as all the drunken bravado vanished into thin air.
""You brought a weapon near a child,"" Giovanni whispered, his voice terrifyingly calm, colder than the grave. ""You raised your voice in her home.""
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""G-Giovanni... stop!"" Tyler gasped, blood trickling from his split lip. ""I’ll... I’ll call the cops...""
""Call them,"" Giovanni murmured, tightening his grip until Tyler’s face turned purple. ""Tell them Giovanni Fioraldi is waiting. Tell them to bring an ambulance for what remains of you.""
