Chapter 7 – Giovanni #2
Her words hit harder than I expect. She has no reason to be scared of me. I don’t want her to be. My jaw tightens, but I don’t flinch away. Instead, I reach across the table, my hand closing gently but firmly over hers.
“Siena,” I murmur, locking my gaze with hers, “why would you be scared of me? I never have and never will do anything to hurt you. Not physically. Not emotionally.”
She tries to pull her hand back, but I hold her there, not letting her run.
“You told me on Halloween that you wanted to feel safe. Sweetheart, there’s no one else in this city who can protect you and keep you safe like I can.
The things that happen because of business, the things that happen behind closed doors, they have nothing to do with you. Never will.”
Her lips part, her chest rising and falling a little too fast. For a second, I think she believes me. But then she shakes her head, her voice quiet but sure.
“That’s the thing, Giovanni. You may be able to make me feel protected and safe, but can I sit quietly and not ask or wonder what happens behind those closed doors? I can’t. I won’t.”
I study her for a long moment, searching her eyes, and then I smile slowly.
“How about this,” I lean in, brushing my thumb over her knuckles.
“We see how this goes. Not the business side, the relationship side. If that goes good, if you and me go good, then I’ll let you in on what happens behind those closed doors. ”
Her eyes widen again, her breath catching. For the first time tonight, she looks shaken. Not by fear, but by hope.
And I know I’ve just pulled her a little deeper into my world.
She hasn’t given me an answer, and I’m not a patient man. But fuck, she makes me want to be.
Usually, women throw themselves at me. They want to be in my world. They want the money, the cars, the danger. They want to sit at my father’s table and flirt with the devil.
Not Siena.
She doesn’t want any of that. She’s a good girl. The kind of girl who makes me—God help me—want more than just sex and company. For the first time in my life.
When we leave the bar, I open the car door for her. She slips in without a word, the silence pressing between us. As I drive toward her apartment, I glance over, taking in the way she stares out the window, her expression distant, guarded.
“Talk to me, Siena. Where’s your head at?”
Her eyes flick to mine, uncertain, then slide back toward the glass. “You don’t even know me. I don’t even know you. We spent one night together, and now you’re saying you want a relationship with me. It’s fast, Giovanni. Reckless. Spontaneous. Scary. Confusing. I don’t know what else to say.”
I tighten my grip on the wheel, my voice low but steady.
“It is fast, sweetheart. It’s reckless, spontaneous, scary, and confusing.
But what isn’t? I’m a man who knows what I want.
I don’t need time to weigh pros and cons.
I might not know every detail about you, but I know enough.
I know your heart is bigger than most. I know you’re smart and complicated.
I know you want things from life you don’t think you deserve.
I know you worry too much. I know the sounds you make when you come.
I know what my name sounds like falling from your lips. And I know how you make me feel.
We aren’t kids anymore. We don’t need anyone’s approval. I want you, Siena, whether it’s after one night or one year.”
I reach over, resting my hand on her knee. “Give me a chance. Let me prove how good this can be.”
She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “You make it sound like a fantasy. Like it’s so easy.”
“It is easy,” I say, eyes locked on hers. “As easy as saying yes.”
Her lips tremble. “I’m a waitress who struggles to pay her bills. I like sleeping in on Saturday mornings. I love getting dressed up, but I also love my sweats. You don’t struggle, Giovanni. You probably don’t even own sweats. We’re different.”
I grit my teeth and jerk the wheel, spinning the car in a sharp U-turn, tires screeching against the pavement.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?” she gasps, gripping the door handle.
“Proving you wrong.”
I don’t slow down until we’re in front of my building. I park, stride around to open her door, and lead her inside. She glares but follows, her heels clicking against the marble floor as we step into the elevator.
She rolls her eyes when I press the penthouse button, but I don’t say a word.
When the doors open, I push open the front door to my place. Her lips part as her gaze sweeps over the high ceilings, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sprawled beneath us.
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
“I’ll give you the grand tour later,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Come on.”
I pull her straight into my bedroom and start yanking open drawers.
Her brows knit together. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Look.”
I drag open the bottom drawer and hold it wide open for her to see.
She bites her lip. “Sweats,” she whispers.
“Yeah. Sweats. I’m not everything you think I am. I wear them. I sleep in every chance I get. I order pizza, drink beer straight from the bottle, and watch movies until I pass out. I might not struggle financially, but don’t judge me for that. Don’t act like I’m some tightass prick.”
She stares at me, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. It’s too much, seeing her doubt me like that. So I step closer, lowering my voice.
“Take a chance, Siena. You won’t regret it. I promise you.”
For a moment, the world goes still. Then she rises onto her toes, presses the softest kiss against my cheek, and whispers the word that makes my chest fucking ignite.
“Yes.”