20. Dario
20
DARIO
S he’s wearing black.
We’re both seated in the plush leather back seat of my car, the hum of the engine the only sound in the stillness. The stiffness crackling in the air feels palpable—so thick that it can be sliced through with a knife.
Ginny sits beside me in silence as we glide through the city lights, her presence all too electric.
When she stepped out earlier—thirty minutes late, just to spite me—I couldn’t breathe for a second. Something in me twisted warm and tight. I felt all my breath leave my chest before something squeezed the dark hollow left behind.
Her defiance—fuck, it drives me mad. But it also consumes me.
That black dress, the one hugging every curve, made my blood run hot. It clung to her body like it was painted on. The V-shaped neckline plunged low, revealing the smooth, supple skin of her cleavage. The skirt hugged her hips, and the slit that ran up her midthigh revealed flashes of her smooth, creamy skin. She’s a vision—deadly and beautiful.
I thought red was her color but seeing her in black made all my inhibitions fly out the window. Almost. My restraint is hanging by a thin rope, ready to snap at any moment.
And then there was the ring. My ring. Wrapped around her slender finger like a claim—a reminder she’s mine filled me with dark satisfaction.
Balling my hands into fists, I cast her another glance suddenly overcome with a surge of possessiveness. The sequin fabric of her dress shimmers under the soft glow of the city lights streaming through the windows.
Her hair cascades in loose waves that frame her face perfectly, while her makeup highlights her striking features— smoky eyes that could pierce through me and red lips that make me want to ruin the distance between us, to crush my mouth against hers until she’s breathless.
My eyes travel lower, to the slit in her dress that parts even further with each shift of her legs. Her smooth thighs tempt me in the most torturous way.
Grinding my teeth, I tear my gaze away from her before I do something reckless. My heart is pounding with a mix of desire and frustration. I want to talk to her so badly, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin against my fingertips.
I want to close the gap between us, but I know if I touch her, even for a second, it’ll ignite something uncontrollable.
The want—no, wanton need—I feel for Ginny is suffocating, consuming every part of me. Every glimpse of her makes me go wild, like a feral animal.
Memories from earlier today flash in my mind. The white, almost see-through tank top she was wearing, the way her nipples puckered out of the thin fabric. Her shorts hugging the curve of her ass in a way that had me cursing under my breath.
I’d barely been able to contain myself when I had her up close and cornered against the kitchen counter. The memories of the one night I’d tasted her linger in my mind, like a drug I can’t quit. That night, she consumed every part of me, and I’d vowed to never touch her again, to stay in control. But it’s useless. She’s all I think about—at work, in meetings, everywhere. Her moans echo in my head, tormenting me.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I locked myself in my office and gave in, my hand around my dick, pumping, imagining it was her slick, warm heat wrapped around me instead. Imagining how I want to fuck her moist pussy.
Fuck.
Now, I’m getting hard again just thinking about it.
I blow out a sharp breath and turn my gaze out the window, trying to calm the throbbing ache. I ball my hands into fists, trying to rein in the desire, the hunger clawing at me.
This night is going to test every ounce of restraint I have left.
Thankfully, we approach the venue for the event—a lavish hotel that stands tall against the night sky. The charity gala is not something I’d typically attend, but tonight is different. Tonight, I’m here to show off my fiancée—make it clear she’s mine.
The car slows to a stop, and I step out to the blinding flashes of cameras. The cold air bites, but it doesn’t compare to the heat roaring inside me. Adjusting my jacket, I offer my hand to Ginny as she steps out, poised and graceful, the perfect picture of control.
Her slender hand slips into mine as she steps out beside me. She takes a deep breath, but her expression doesn’t give anything away.
“Smile,” I tell her as we turn, ready for the events that will unfold.
We begin to walk down the carpet, and I feel the eyes of the crowd on us. Amongst the gushing and fawning, I hear whispers from some of the guests, their glances lingering on Ginny with mixed expressions of curiosity and admiration.
I tighten my grip on her hand as the lights flashes pop like fireworks, capturing our entrance. I can feel the warmth of Ginny’s palm against mine, and I focus on her, trying to block out the noise.
“Just keep walking,” I murmur, sensing her unease. Ginny glances up at me, and for a fleeting moment, I’m reminded of just how strikingly beautiful she is. She glows, even under the scrutiny of so many eyes. I don’t think I can ever get used to her ethereal perfection. I don’t want to.
We enter the ballroom, and I sense her trying to slip her hand out of mine. I tighten my grip, pulling her back towards me.
“We aren’t done performing yet,” I say quietly, my voice a warning.
The gala is alive with energy, and for a moment, it feels like just the two of us in this bustling sea of elegance.
People turn their heads as we approach, their eyes lingering on us, the new couple making their first public appearance together. I can feel the weight of their gazes, some curious, others judgmental, and I couldn’t care less. I just want to make a statement. I want to claim her publicly.
The room is filled with tables draped in elegant white linens adorned with gorgeous centerpieces. The soft glow of candlelight flickers, casting a romantic ambiance over the space. A live band plays soft classical music in the corner, and the sound mingles perfectly with the conversations and laughter in the room.
I slide one hand over her waist, pulling her flush against my side. Her heat seeps through the thick material of my tuxedo, and I hear the soft hitch of her breath.
“You don’t have to,” she tells me through gritted teeth. “They already get the message.”
I glance down at her, taking her left hand in mine, my thumb brushing over the diamond on her finger. “I want to.” The words leave my mouth, heavy with meaning.
Before she can protest, I spot him—Rinaldo, striding toward us. My stomach tightens at the sight of that smug smirk plastered across his face. He’s dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, but it’s the mere sight of his condescending gaze that sets my teeth on edge.
“Look who it is,” he calls out, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Our most recent power couple.”
Ginny stiffens beside me, her body rigid at the sound of his voice.
“I would say your engagement to Dario sparked more interest in the public than ours did...”
“Back off, Rinaldo,” I say sharply, my voice low but firm.
He takes a step closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Why, Dario? I never got the chance to say my congratulations in person.”
People are starting to notice the small scene, and a few murmurs and whispers erupt around us. I clench my jaw so hard I’m sure my teeth will crack. Thank god it’s a phone-free event, no photographers allowed inside—at least I don’t have to worry about this being plastered all over the internet. But the way he’s trying to humiliate her, to break her down in front of everyone, sets my blood on fire. I won’t let him get away with it.
Taking another step toward him, I repeat the two words more firmly. “Back off.”
Something sinister flashes in his eyes as he looks at me, and then, casting one last glance at Ginny, he adds, “Enjoy your evening,” before sauntering away.
I immediately turn to Ginny, catching the slight tremor in her hands and the way her jaw tightens in anger.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly, my thumb brushing her cheeks.
“Yeah, fine,” she snaps before exhaling a sharp breath. “Let’s go. People are staring.”
“Let them stare.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She blushes beneath the makeup, her cheeks tinged with pink, and I can tell that she hates the reaction because she clenches her jaw immediately after.
Slipping my hand into hers again, I guide Ginny through the crowd. She seems to relax a bit, but I still sense the slight tension in her shoulders as we navigate past tables filled with guests chatting animatedly.
As we continue to weave through the crowd, I spot Lorenzo across the room, his tall frame easily recognizable. He’s engaged in conversation with a group of people, his easy smile drawing them in.
Ginny sees him as well, and she goes rigid again. She’s still pissed at him. At this point, she may be pissed at me, as well.
She hates you, just like you should hate her, a voice whispers in my head just as Lorenzo catches sight of us.
His face lights up, and he breaks away from the group, striding toward us with an open smile.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you both here,” he says with that trademark smile.
“We wouldn’t miss it,” I reply, keeping my tone cordial.
A flicker of emotion crosses his eyes as he looks at Ginny.
Lorenzo’s eyes flicker with something—regret, maybe—as he looks at his sister. “Ginny, you look… stunning. That dress is perfect on you.”
“Thanks.” Her voice is flat, the one-word reply cutting through the thick silence that follows. It’s brief, but it hangs heavy until Lorenzo clears his throat and continues.
“There’s a silent auction starting soon,” he says, forcing a smile. “And I hear there are a lot of bidders with money to spend.”
I glance at Lorenzo, feeling the weight of the unsaid things between him and Ginny. The tightness in her posture, the way her hand trembles just slightly in mine. It’s familial and unresolved and I can’t but feel bad about causing it. Well, almost bad.
I suddenly feel like an outsider in a conversation I have no part in.
Ginny doesn’t respond right away, her gaze focused somewhere beyond the ballroom, lost in a world I can’t reach.
“Great,” Ginny finally mutters, her tone sharp and curt. Her eyes flicker to her brother, a flash of something painful crossing her face before she masks it. “Enjoy the auction, Lorenzo.”
Her words are cold, dismissive, but I can see the storm brewing behind her eyes.
Lorenzo gives a tight nod, lingering for a second longer than necessary before turning away, blending into the crowd. I can feel Ginny’s pulse quicken under my fingers as she exhales sharply, as if she’s been holding her breath this entire time.
“You okay?” I murmur, leaning down so only she can hear me.
She doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes still locked on where her brother disappeared. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet but firm. “Let’s just get this over with.”
We approach the table, and I pull out a chair for Ginny, dragging it closer to mine before gesturing for her to sit. I half expect her to roll her eyes or throw a sarcastic comment my way about being possessive, but she just sits down quietly.
Gritting my teeth, I try to focus on Lorenzo, who is saying something to the other guests seated at the table with us. He looks significantly better than the last time I saw him. That depressing air around him and the gloominess in his eyes are gone. I guess his company’s success is doing wonders for his mood.
Ginny remains silent, and I can’t ignore the hurt expression on her face as she glances between me and her brother. Guilt twists in my gut, but I push it down, telling myself she’ll get over it. Time will heal things. The company’s doing better, and eventually, she’ll come around. But the ache in my chest refuses to go away.
After a few minutes, Ginny pushes her chair back abruptly and stands. “I have to use the restroom.”
Without another word, she’s gone.
I focus on the extravagant spread before me, taking a bite of caviar, savoring the rich taste while trying to ignore the inevitable conversation with my worst enemy across from me. Lorenzo is glued to his phone, typing away, the silence between us stretching thin. After a few more minutes, and the quiet departure of the other two guests, it’s just the two of us left at the table.
“She’s still mad, huh?” Lorenzo finally speaks, breaking the strained quiet.
I lean back into my seat, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”
“She’s probably mad at you, too.”
“She hates me,” I admit, and for the first time, the weight of that reality sinks in, sending a sharp, unwelcome ache through my chest.
I don’t want her to hate me.
Lorenzo sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I haven’t exactly painted the best picture of you to her.”
“I’ll bet you haven’t. Telling her that her precious brother’s a backstabber doesn’t exactly make you the good guy here either.”
“I didn’t betray you?—”
“Right. You just stood by and watched while my entire world collapsed when you could have stopped it. No big deal. It’s fine.”
My words hang in the air between us, and the atmosphere becomes tense again. Past memories, betrayals, and pain flash through my memory, and I assume he’s also thinking about the same thing.
I tap my fingers against my knee, a nervous tic from childhood I haven’t fully shaken. When I grew older, that nervous energy morphed into a need for a cigarette or a glass of whiskey.
“What does she like?” I ask, breaking the silence again.
Lorenzo blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
“Ginny. What are the things she likes?”
His eyes widen just a fraction, and for the first time, I catch a flicker of surprise in them. It hits me—hard.
Maybe I care about Ginny more than I’ve ever let myself admit. When she’s upset, it gnaws at me, infecting my mood. And when she’s happy... well, I’ve never really seen her happy around me. That thought stings in a way I hadn’t expected.
A tightness forms in my chest, like a fist slowly closing around my heart. I want to see her happy. More than that—I want to be the reason she’s happy. Not out of obligation or this twisted situation we’re in, but because I actually give a damn.
Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to care.
But now I do. More than I should.