Chapter 3 – Giovanni
GIOVANNI
I pull out one of the chairs at the small round table, the kind designed for people to stop and sip champagne before blowing their paychecks. “Sit,” I say, more a command than a suggestion.
Her chin lifts, defiant. “Do you always order women around?”
I grin, lowering myself into the opposite seat. “Only the ones who look like they might bolt if I ask too nicely.”
She hesitates, but then those long legs carry her to the chair, and she lowers herself with a soft sigh, crossing her arms across her chest like she’s building armor.
Good. I like armor. Armor means she’s careful. Armor means she’s smart.
A server appears almost instantly, just one of the many perks of running the place. “Whiskey,” I tell him, then nod to Siena. “And for you?”
Her eyes dart to me before landing on the server. “Just water.”
“Water?” I can’t hide my amusement.
“I need a clear head,” she shoots back, her lips twitching like maybe she almost smiled. “Someone’s got to have one.”
“Touché.” I lean back, studying her while the drinks are brought. “Still sharp as I remember.”
Her brows knit. “We barely spoke in high school.”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you.”
That gets her. Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, fiddling with the edge of her napkin. The server sets down the glasses, and I push hers closer.
“Why’d you come tonight?” I ask, taking a slow sip of my whiskey. “This isn’t your scene. Never was.”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “Because my dad asked me to. Begged, actually. Said he wanted quality time.” She rolls her eyes, and it stabs me with how familiar that frustration sounds. “But really? He just didn’t want to walk in here alone.”
Figures. Robbie Costa hasn’t changed. Always hiding behind something or someone.
“You deserve better,” I murmur before I can stop myself.
Her gaze snaps to mine, guarded. “You don’t know me well enough to decide that.”
“I know enough,” I counter, my voice low and steady. “I know you’re sitting here looking like the only person in the room who doesn’t want to be, and I know your father’s out there gambling away whatever scraps of loyalty you’ve given him. That’s enough.”
Her lips part, but no words come. She swallows hard, then finally says, “You talk like you’ve got me all figured out.”
“Not even close,” I admit, smirking again. “That’s the part I’m curious about. The rest of the story.”
She shakes her head, but her fingers toy with the rim of her glass, betraying her nerves. “And what if I don’t want to tell my story?”
I lean forward, bracing my elbows on the table, my voice soft but threaded with steel. “Then you walk away right now. But something tells me you won’t.”
Her chest rises and falls, and for a moment, it’s just silence between us, thick and electric. Finally, she huffs out a breath, muttering, “You’re impossible.”
I grin, lifting my glass in a mock toast. “And yet, you’re still here.”
I swirl the whiskey in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light before I look back at her. She’s biting the inside of her cheek, like she’s debating if she should even stay seated across from me.
“Tell me something, Siena.” My voice dips low, the way it always does when I want someone to listen. “Why’d you really say yes to coming here tonight? You knew your father had an angle. You had to know.”
Her eyes lift to mine, guarded but soft around the edges. “Because despite everything, I wanted to believe him. Just once. That maybe he cared more about me than the next bet.”
That admission hits me harder than I expect. I shouldn’t give a damn. She’s Robbie Costa’s daughter, the man I’m about to deal with tonight. Yet, something about the way she says it, so raw, unpolished, honest…it feels all too familiar.
I lean forward, my elbows on the table, closing the distance between us. “That’s the difference between you and him. You’re still capable of believing in people.”
Her laugh is soft, almost bitter. “Believing just gets you hurt.”
“Or,” I counter, my gaze locked on hers, “it gets you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
Her lips part, a tiny intake of breath giving her away. She shakes her head like she’s trying to break whatever spell I’ve thrown over her. “You really think you’ve got all the answers, don’t you?”
“No.” I take another slow sip, let the burn coat my throat. “But I know what I see when I look at you.”
“And what’s that?” Her voice is a challenge, but there’s a tremor there, too.
I smirk, leaning back just enough to let her feel the loss of my nearness.
“A girl who’s smarter than everyone in this room, but still too damn loyal for her own good.
A girl who’s been let down so many times she’s built walls no one’s been able to climb.
” I pause, let the tension stretch. “Until tonight.”
Her breath stutters, and she leans back further in her chair, like that’ll protect her from me. But her eyes stay glued to mine. “And you think you’re the one to climb them?”
“No, Siena.” I tilt my head, my smile sharp, deliberate. “I don’t climb walls. I tear them down.”
Silence hums between us, hot and alive. Her fingers fidget with her glass again, tracing the rim like she’s buying time.
“Maybe,” she says finally, her voice softer now, “I don’t want them to be torn down.”
I chuckle, low and rough, the sound curling around us. “Then you shouldn’t have sat at my table, Bunny.”
Her eyes flash at the nickname, equal parts defiance and heat, and I know I’ve hooked her. Even if she won’t admit it yet.
As time goes by, the air between us crackles, tighter than a live wire. Siena’s chest rises faster, her lips parted like she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. She just looks at me, eyes dark, searching.
I stand, tossing back the last of my whiskey. “This floor’s too crowded.”
She blinks. “So?”
“So,” I step closer, extending a hand, “come with me.”
Her brows shoot up. “Not happening.”
I chuckle, tilting my head. “You’re already halfway gone, Bunny. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Her glare sharpens, but she doesn’t move. I lean down, my mouth brushing her ear, letting my voice roughen into command. “Five seconds, Siena. That’s all I’m giving you to decide.”
One… two… her breath hitches. By four, she’s slipping her hand into mine, muttering something about how stupid this is.
I smirk and lead her across the floor, weaving through masks and feathers, devils and angels.
No one pays any attention to us. They’re too caught up in their own sins to notice I’m pulling a Costa into mine.
The private room door clicks shut behind us, muffling the casino’s roar. The space is dim, with warm light spilling over a leather couch, a stocked bar gleaming in the corner.
Siena crosses her arms, trying to look in control. “You know, I said no the first time.”
“And then you said yes.” I stalk closer, unbuttoning the top few buttons of my black shirt, until it’s half open beneath the red devil jacket. Her eyes flicker down, betraying her.
“Doesn’t mean I’m staying.”
“Then go.” I shrug, leaning against the bar, pouring another whiskey. “But we both know you won’t.”
She takes a step forward instead of back, fire flashing in her gaze. “You think you’re irresistible, don’t you?”
I smirk, swirling the glass. “I don’t think, Bunny. I know.”
Her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile. “Cocky bastard.”
I set the glass down, closing the space between us in three strides. She stiffens, but she doesn’t move away. My hand lifts, brushing a strand of dark hair off her shoulder, my knuckles grazing the bare skin of her collarbone.
“You can call me whatever you want,” I murmur, my mouth hovering just above hers, “as long as you say my name when I make you beg.”
Her breath catches, her body leaning closer even as her words try to push back. “You’re crazy if you think I’m begging for anything.”
I grin, my thumb brushing her lower lip, pressing lightly until she gasps. “Challenge accepted.”
The tension snaps like a match struck in gasoline. She grabs my jacket, yanking me down, her mouth colliding with mine. Hot. Demanding. Defiant.
And fuck if I don’t love it.
Her lips are soft, but the way she kisses me is anything but. It’s fierce, unyielding, like she’s trying to take back every ounce of control I’ve stolen from her.
I growl into her mouth, my hands finding her waist, pulling her flush against me.
The corset digs into my palms, the satin smooth under my fingers as I trace the curve of her back.
She gasps, and I take full advantage, deepening the kiss until she’s melting into me, her nails biting into my chest through my shirt.
“Careful, Bunny,” I murmur against her lips, my breath hot, ragged. “You scratch me like that, I’ll think you’re trying to mark me.”
She shoves at my chest, just enough to put an inch between us, her eyes blazing. “Maybe I am.”
Fuck. She has no idea what that does to me.
I slam my mouth back on hers, harder this time, devouring every sound she makes. My hand slides lower, gripping her hip, fingers digging into the thin strap of her fishnet. She moans when I press her back against the wall, caging her in with my body.
“You taste like sin,” I growl, trailing kisses down her jaw to her throat, nipping just hard enough to make her gasp. “Fitting, since you’re in the devil’s hands.”
Her breath shudders out, her head tipping back to give me more access, even as she whispers, “This is a mistake.”
I lift my head, pinning her with my stare, my lips a whisper from hers. “Probably.” My hand slides up, cupping her jaw, forcing her eyes on mine. “But tell me to stop, Siena. One word, and I’ll walk out that door.”
She stares at me, her chest heaving, lips parted, but the word never comes.
Instead, she leans forward, crashing her mouth to mine again, harder than before.
That’s all the permission I need.
My hand fists in her hair, angling her head so I can take everything she’s giving, swallowing her moans like they’re made for me. My other hand slides down her thigh, gripping, squeezing, until I hook her leg around my hip, pressing her against the wall so she can feel exactly what she does to me.
Her nails claw at my shoulders, her body arching into mine, heat radiating off her in waves.
“You’re playing with fire, Bunny,” I rasp, biting her lip, tugging it between my teeth. “And I’m the one who always wins.”
Her laugh is breathless, daring. “We’ll see about that.”
Her challenge is the last thread of restraint I’ve got, and it snaps.
My hands roam her body like I’ve been waiting years for this, pulling at the edge of her corset until it slowly pulls apart under my grip.
She gasps as I tug at the laces, loosening the tight fit, baring more of her skin inch by inch.
Her chest heaves as her tits spill out, and I bury my mouth there.
Sucking, biting, marking her until her moans vibrate against the wall.
Her hands are everywhere. She’s grabbing at my hair, tugging at the devil jacket, ripping it off my shoulders until it hits the floor. Then her nails drag down my chest as she shoves my shirt open, buttons popping, exposing bare skin to the cool air.
“God, you’re—” she cuts herself off with a moan as I nip at her collarbone, my smirk pressed into her skin.
“Say it,” I growl, tugging her leg higher around my hip, grinding against her so she feels exactly how far gone I am.
She bites her lip, refusing, and I laugh darkly against her throat. “Stubborn Bunny.”
Her corset slips lower as I yank at it, baring her, and when I pull back to look at her, my cock throbs. Her red lips swollen from my kisses, her eyes glassy with heat, her body trembling against mine. It’s enough to wreck me.
“Fuck, Siena,” I breathe, voice rough, almost reverent, before crushing my mouth back to hers.
She whimpers into the kiss, but then she’s pushing me, surprising me, reversing us until my back hits the wall. She’s bolder now, hands sliding down my chest, lower, teasing the waistband of my pants.
My head tips back, a growl tearing from my throat as her nails scratch just above where I ache for her most. “Careful,” I grit out, grabbing her wrist, forcing her hand flat against my chest. My eyes lock on hers, blazing. “You don’t get to tease the devil unless you’re ready for the consequences.”
Her lips curve in the faintest, wicked smile. “Maybe I am.”
I don’t give her the chance to rethink it.
My mouth crashes onto hers again, deeper, hungrier, and my hands are already sliding down, gripping her ass through the thin fabric, lifting her.
She wraps around me like she was made for it, her back arching, head falling back as I press her against the wall, grinding into her until we’re both gasping for air.
Clothes are half off, my jacket and shirt somewhere on the floor, her corset hanging loose, fishnets ripped under my impatient hands. Every barrier between us is breaking, one by one, and all I can think is that I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her here and now in this moment.
She’s mine, whether she admits it or not.
And I’ll prove it until she can’t breathe my name without trembling.
“You’re mine tonight,” I rasp against her lips, my voice gravel and heat.
“You don’t own me,” she fires back, but her moan betrays her as I slide my hand higher, gripping, claiming.
I chuckle, low and dark, my teeth grazing her jaw. “Then why are you letting me touch you like this?”
She has no answer, only another kiss, hot and desperate, pulling me deeper into her until there’s nothing left but the sound of her moans, the heat of her body, and the undeniable truth that I’ll never get enough of her.