mozzafiato ➝ peaky blinders

sei

changretta residence, new york city

-

A frown creased Gianna's features as she looked at her father, then her uncle. "Why are we going to Birmingham?" she asked.

Luca and Nico exchanged a look, before glancing back over to her.

"Just pack up, bambina," Nico said lowly. "We sail early tomorrow."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "I want to know."

"If you trust your family, Gia, you'll do as we say," Luca spoke up, his thick drawl obstinate. He was giving his kid that unreadable look, the one that set her on edge.

"Papa," she started carefully, rising from her seat and moving towards him, "just tell me. Surely you know I'm trustworthy by now."

Luca didn't indulge her with a reply. He turned away, heading for the door. "Dinner's in two hours. Get started," he murmured. 

Gia watched her father stalk away, her eyes flickering between him and Nico.

Sure, Nico and Luca had briefly lived in the English city as young men, and Audrey had taught there a few years ago. But the Changrettas weren't prone to family trips purely for pleasure or nostalgia. Something else was at play here.

It took her a moment.

But then -

She felt a pang in her gut.

The gang that had killed her grandfather and Angel lived in Birmingham.

Maybe it was the wine she had been drinking all evening that caused the wave of nausea that set her head in a whirl, and gave her foolish courage. But even as she opened her mouth, as she was saying the words, she was wishing she could take them back.

"No. I won't go."

Luca stopped.

And Gianna didn't even have to see his face to know she had stepped out of line.

Not once in the last four years had Gianna said no to her father. She hadn't dared.

But, she knew what would happen in Birmingham. And she had done enough killing for him to last her a lifetime.

There were a few more moments of silence, in which Luca didn't budge.

Then, slowly, slowly, he turned around to face his daughter. 

Nico watched his brother helplessly, and Gia didn't move. She might have even stopped breathing.

That unreadable look was gone. She would have been a fool not to see the outrage on Luca's face. 

He eyed her for a moment longer, his eyes full of disdain.

Then, he began to move.

With the stalking grace of a predator, Luca strode forward, not once moving his hard gaze from his daughter. His footfalls were quiet, careful, yet they echoed around Gianna's head, relentless and deafening. It was all she could do to keep her eyes on his. 

Once he had closed the distance between them, Luca halted. He towered over his daughter by almost five inches, having to bow his head to look her in the eye. His figure dwarfed her easily; it was not the only advantage he had over her. 

Luca would never lay a hand on his child. He believed it was wrong. Unholy, even.

But, all the same, he felt no guilt in merely threatening her.

His face barely changed as he rested a large, slim hand on the curve between his kid's neck and shoulder, his fingers resting around her throat, with his thumb below her chin and his digits at the top of her spine. 

He didn't apply any pressure. He didn't need to. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingertips; it was already accelerating.

"You wanna say that again for me, Gianna Elise Changretta?" he said at last. His voice was dangerously soft.

Gianna was unable to meet his eyes, shaking in his grip. "It doesn't matter, padre."

Nobody in the room moved. Luca remained towering over her, his hand enclosing her throat. She stood very still, trying to keep her heart rate down. Nico watched, motionless. 

"That's what I thought," Luca murmured. He let his hand fall, and moved away. "Pack your bags. And avoid your nonna."

"Si, papa." She heard her voice, but not her words.

Then, he was out of the room, heading down the stairs.

Still, Gianna didn't move. 

Her gaze drifted over to her uncle, who still stood by the door. 

Before she could speak, he turned away, and left, shutting the door behind him. He didn't give her so much as a last glance.