21. Ginevra
21
GINEVRA
I slip into the bathroom, the noise and chatter of the gala fading into the background. Once I confirm it’s empty, I push the door shut behind me and hear the soft click of the lock. The moment I’m alone, I lean back against the door, letting out a shaky breath as my body sinks to the floor.
The lights overhead are harsh, bouncing off the gleaming marble tiles and making everything feel too bright, too overwhelming.
Tears well up in the corners of my eyes, and I fight to hold them back. I feel stupid. Useless. Like some expensive accessory Dario brought to flaunt in front of everyone. The weight of their judgment and scrutiny had become unbearable, suffocating, until I had no choice but to leave the room.
Ever since this whole mess started, I’ve been trying to remind myself that I’m not just a pawn in their game—Dario’s or Lorenzo’s. I am my own person, and I’ll make choices that benefit me and my career. No one else.
But sitting there with Lorenzo and Dario pretending everything was fine made me feel worthless. Like I was nothing more than an object. A trophy for their satisfaction. A means to an end.
The thought of it makes my stomach turn.
Judging by the pleased expression Lorenzo wore during those few minutes we spent together, the company must be doing well. I’m happy for him, but the way I was expected to stay there, acting as if everything was normal, felt like a slap in the face.
My hands ball into fists as I remember Rinaldo’s mocking words. I shouldn’t be bothered by him because he’s an asshole, and I ended things with him before my forced engagement to Dario. However, he doesn’t know that. The moment I broke up with him, my engagement to Dario was announced.
I take a few deep breaths, yet I don’t feel better even the slightest. After a few minutes, I push my body off the floor and walk over to the sink. I have the strong urge to splash cold water on my face, but I remind myself that I’m wearing makeup and there’s still a party going on outside.
My eyes glance up, and I catch my reflection in the mirror. For a moment, I hardly recognize the woman staring back, dressed in elegant black, but feeling so out of place.
I hate Dario for all the things he’s done, but I also hate that I can’t shake the frustration I feel when he’s angry with me, like earlier today in the kitchen. I hate that he’s unpredictable—hot this moment and cold the next.
I hate that I care, that it affects me. I shouldn’t care about any of this, yet the conflicting emotions swirl in my chest, making it hard to think straight.
Feeling the need to get some fresh air, I push through the door and navigate the crowded ballroom, avoiding the curious glances of a few guests. I look toward Dario and Lorenzo and see them in a conversation. A huff slips past my lips before I pull my gaze away from them.
Finding solace in a dimly lit hallway, the floor lights cast soft shadows along the walls. As I walk, the buzz of the party fades into a distant hum, my footsteps leading me aimlessly.
Eventually, I stumble upon a small corridor that opens onto a veranda. Stepping outside, the cool night air brushes against my face, a welcome relief. Leaning against the railing, I gaze out into the darkness, hoping to clear my mind. But just as I start to relax, heavy footsteps echo nearby, and my stomach knots at the sound of that dreaded voice.
“Ginny! There you are!” Rinaldo’s voice cuts through the quiet, and I turn to see him striding toward me, his expression smug and infuriatingly confident.
I ignore him, hoping he would just go away, but knowing him, I know that’s literally impossible.
“What do you want, Rinaldo?” I finally snap, crossing my arms defensively as he comes closer.
His footsteps don’t stop until he’s invading my space. “Is that any way to greet your ex-fiancé, Sweet Pea?”
The nickname sends shivers of disgust down my spine. I never liked it.
“I was looking for you,” he continues, undeterred by my silence. “Do you think you can just end things with me over a flimsy phone call, ignore all my texts and calls, and then jump into the arms of another man?” His voice drips with disgust.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my temper. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” He chuckles harshly. “Then how do you explain the fact that just days after ending our engagement, your engagement to someone else was announced? Dario De Luca, of all people,” he spits.
My throat burns with anger and humiliation. “I don’t wish to talk to you, Rinaldo. Leave me alone.”
But he doesn’t listen. As he steps closer to me, I have to take a few steps back, but this only means he has me cornered against the wall. His eyes glint with pure evil, and my heart thumps with a mixture of fear, anger, and dread.
“Why? Are you ashamed, Ginny? Ashamed that you’re such a whore?”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” I finally snap. “Our relationship and engagement were a sham, and you know it. If anyone ruined anything, it was you. Selfish bastard.”
His eyes flash, and in an instant, his grip tightens painfully around my arm.
“Is that so?” He smirks, his breath hot against my face as he lifts my left hand. My engagement ring catches the moonlight. A bitter chuckle escapes him. “Is that why you chose to proudly wear his ring instead of mine? Is that why you moved in with him?”
How did he find out about Dario and me living together?
“When you broke things off, I thought you were just being dramatic, as usual. Ignoring my calls and texts, trying to push me to do better,” he hisses, his grip on my wrist tightening further. “Until I heard about your engagement to another man,” he continues, his voice rising.
“The next day, I went to your brother’s house, and guess what the maids told me,” he barks with another loud laugh. “You moved in with him a day after your engagement became public. You wouldn’t move in with me after months of dating and getting engaged.”
“This has nothing to do with you,” I say firmly, trying to pull my arm away. “I ended things. You need to move on.”
“I guess my suspicions were true. Your brother’s just your pimp, selling you off to the best man he can get his hands on,” Rinaldo sneers.
“The best? You think you were the best man my brother could find for me?”
His expression is one of surprise at my response. He’s trying to rouse a reaction from me by dragging my brother into this, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“We both knew our relationship was arranged from the start,” I continue, unflinching. “You act as if you contributed anything to my life—as if I gained anything from you.”
“You—”
“You’re just the jobless son of a politician. The whole arrangement was to give you ties to a reputable business because you don’t have the brains or guts to make it in politics.”
“How dare you?” His face turns an angry shade of red, his fists clenched.
“If anyone should be mad, it’s me! I wasted my time with you,” I say, my voice rising. “Your influence did nothing for my family. You were a burden I couldn’t wait to get rid of. And sex with you—” I laugh bitterly. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.”
His eyes blaze with fury, but I ignore the pain searing in my wrist as his grip tightens.
“You think he’s better than me? You think he actually wants you?” he snarls.
“Dario respects me,” I retort, standing my ground despite the way my heart is currently racing. “Something you never did. You wanted to use me to satisfy your ambitions, not mine.”
“Respect? That’s rich,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re just a trophy for him, a prize to show off. You’re still the same girl I knew, the one who desperately craves affection from anyone who gives her any.”
“Crave attention?” I scoff. “I was pretending with you, Rinaldo. Everything from the beginning to the end of it was a lie.”
Then, lowering my voice into a whisper, I say in fake concern, “Maybe you should look inward and really ask yourself what’s so miserable about you that despite all your money and status, no woman wants to be with you.”
I rip my arm from his grip and try to push past him, but he grabs my hair and slams me against the wall. My back stings from the impact.
“Get away from me,” I spit through gritted teeth, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. I try to shove him off, but his hold only tightens. “You can’t control me anymore!”
His eyes darken, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I should remind you what happens when you run your mouth around me,” he growls, raising his hand to strike me.
I brace myself, my eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding, waiting for the inevitable blow.
But the impact never comes. Instead, I hear a sickening crack followed by Rinaldo’s pained groan. I open my eyes just in time to see Dario, his face twisted with fury, holding Rinaldo by the neck and pinning him to the wall. Rinaldo’s nose is bleeding profusely, and his eyes are wide with shock and fear.
Dario slams his fist into Rinaldo’s face again, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the night air. Rinaldo lets out a guttural groan, clutching his face in agony, his hand now visibly broken.
“Dario, stop,” I cry, my voice shaking as my heart races, fear mixing with relief. If he keeps going, this will turn into a disaster.
Dario exhales harshly, then shoves Rinaldo’s crumpled body to the ground. The air between us crackles with tension, and I watch as Rinaldo tries to get back on his feet, only to stumble and fall back to the floor, his face twisted in pain.
Dario stands over him, his voice low and lethal. “The next time I see you near my wife—if you so much as lay a finger on her—I will kill you.”
His words hang heavy in the air, a promise laced with a deadly finality.
Without another glance at Rinaldo, Dario grabs my hand and pulls me away. My heart pounds in my chest as we leave, the night air doing little to calm the storm raging inside me.
My heels click against the tiled floor as Dario leads me down the hallway toward the elevator. His hand grips mine tightly, his breaths heavy with restrained anger, but instead of feeling trapped or disgusted like I did when Rinaldo held me, I feel something entirely different—protected, special, safe…and...so fucking turned on.
The elevator doors slide open, and as we step inside, the tension clings to us. I can still feel the anger radiating off Dario’s body like a live wire, the air around him charged with intensity.
The doors close with a soft ping, sealing us in the small space, and I tilt my head to look at him.
I should thank him for saving me. If he hadn’t stepped in, I can’t bear to think what Rinaldo would have done. But Dario still hasn’t looked at me, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the elevator doors.
Earlier tonight, I wanted to escape his presence, wanted to get far away from the weight of his gaze. Now, all I want is for him to see me, to feel how grateful I am for what he did.
Gently, I slide my hand up to his face, turning him toward me. His skin is warm beneath my touch, and for a brief moment, his eyes meet mine, blazing with something raw and unspoken. But before I can utter a single word, a low growl rumbles from his chest, and in one swift motion, he captures my lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.
The force of it knocks the breath out of me, but I don’t care. All the fear, all the tension from the night, melts away under the heat of his kiss.
I kiss him back.