Gio Santini Broke His Arm

I braced myself for a knife, a gun, a bat--some sort of weapon he'd use to get out any pent up anger. His father could probably help him hide my body. And to be completely honest there wouldn't be too many people who'd miss Valentina Stravos.

But my breath falls short my eyes widening as I realized that he wasn't holding some sort of bloody weapon. No, in his hands were flowers.

Red roses.

"Valentina." He spoke in his gruff voice that sent a chill down my spine. "Will you go on a date with me."