Chapter Two
Gabriella
Don’t look. Don’t look at him. Please don’t turn around and…
I start to turn, my body twisting around when a hand clamps over mine, stopping me. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Huh, what?” I mutter, distracted. The hand squeezes mine, making me turn instead to look at a pair of bright eyes and a smile lighting up my sister-in-law’s gorgeous face.
Looking at her reminds me of how much I wanted a sister growing up.
Silvia’s daughter and I were close, but Emilia was the kind of person who preferred her own company.
She spent more time in the library than she ever did outside of it.
And I, well… Growing up, I could have used someone a little more present.
Today, Sofia has been that for me from the second she married Matteo.
“You seem on edge. Like you’re anxious or nervous about something. Are you okay?”
No. I am the furthest thing from okay, but I don’t tell Sofia that.
The truth is, I can’t focus on anything without my mind wandering to the man seated a row behind mine.
Christ, I thought I was over him. Done and dusted.
No longer in my heart but no, I had to go and feature him in my paintings for my final college project.
I even gave him his own painting and, by doing so, exposed a memory I swore to erase from my mind.
To think that the birthday painting was the first painting I did—a memory I couldn’t keep contained—before working around to the others just goes to show how central in my life Nico is to my life, and I hate it.
I hate the fact that two years after he became an official part of the Rossis, I can’t get my head—or heart—to remember that Nico and I will never be a thing.
I would be better off with someone else, but the thought of another man touching me, taking his place while the one I want lives and breathes, makes me sick to my stomach.
“I’m fine,” I tell Sofia, squeezing her hand back. “Just ready for this day to be over.” So I can finally hide from my family and…him.
“You did so well, Gabby,” Sofia whispers, nudging her shoulder against mine. “Your paintings were the best in this room. I can’t imagine having your talent. I would probably go around town painting murals and wreaking havoc on every wall I see!”
A chuckle slips out, and I clap a hand over my mouth when more than just one head turns our way. “Please don’t make me laugh while my professor is up there talking,” I tell her, as another laugh threatens to bubble up.
We trade a smile before turning back to the front, where Professor Arturo is droning on about the importance of art to society in the new age of inauthenticity—or something along those lines.
But it’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as my mind wanders to the one person it’s not supposed to go.
There’s a prickling sensation at the back of my neck like someone is watching me, and I’m afraid to turn around and find out if it’s Nico.
Don’t look.
You can ignore him.
Okay, maybe just a quick peek. I will take one look—it’ll be like not looking at all. Maybe one sweeping glance over the people behind me. My finger starts tapping on my knee, and I’m back to feeling restless again.
Still, I should resist the urge to turn around and…dammit.
I curse under my breath when my eyes drift from the front where the professor is talking, like they have a mind of their own, and find Nico.
He’s seated with my father a row behind mine, and his eyes are fixed on me.
He’s watching me intensely, and I feel the prickling sensation turn into a burning one.
The kind that leaves my skin flushed and sensitive.
A slow heat builds in my belly the longer I look into his eyes before moving lower and making me throb as warmth pools between my legs.
I squeeze my thighs together, mortified by my body’s reaction to a single look.
Christ, why does he have to look so damn hot. I can’t help but run my eyes over his sharp features, the slightly unruly hair, and those lips… I’ve had countless dreams about those lips.
I hate that he makes me feel this way. One look and I’m melting.
Even after making it clear that I am nothing more than a little sister to him, I still can’t help it.
I try to pull my gaze away, but they stay, lingering on his frame, tall and handsome.
So damn hot. And when I realize that mine are not the only eyes watching him, I can’t help the vicious stab of jealousy that makes me want to confront every single one of these women until they all know he’s mine.
But he’s not.
“…And as we send these young, talented students out into the world, we hope they will preserve the integrity of art. Finally, I would like to take this opportunity to announce the winner of the Heart to Canvas contest…”
Nico doesn’t belong to me, or anyone else, for that matter. Without a ring on his finger, of course other women will look at him with desire. Some will even have better luck with him than I ever could.
Look away, Gabby!
“…This individual has exhibited great talent, and I have to admit that I could even learn a thing or two from them. Every once in a while, you come across someone with talent so brilliant and unique that even as their professor, you’re afraid to touch it and somehow corrupt…”
Someone calls my name, but I’m too lost in my head for it to immediately register. Sofia nudges my arm, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Huh?” I ask, fighting the urge to run a restless hand through my hair.
“I think that professor just called your name,” Sofia says, just for my ears. “Unless you have another Gabriella Rossi in your class.”
“Me? Why?” I ask, panicked. “What? I don’t—”
“Smile,” she urges from the corner of her mouth, and I automatically do so, noticing with horror that everyone is looking at me. “Congratulations on winning the award for the Art to Canvas contest.”
“Heart to Canvas,” I correct, my eyes widening when I realize what it means. “Wait, I won?” But how? The contest was for all students—seniors and juniors both. Nearly a hundred paintings had been submitted, and mine won?
Sofia nudges me to stand and walk forward. Somehow, I make it to the podium where my professor is holding a certificate.
“Congratulations, Miss Rossi.” There is a twinkle in his eyes as he hands me the certificate. When I feel his hand graze mine, I chalk it up to an accidental touch.
“Thank you, Dr. Arturo.”
“You must be excited for Vegas,” he says as we pose for a picture.
“Oh, yes. I just…I didn’t think I’d actually win.”
He turns to me, smiling. “Remember the winner of the contest gets to spend a weekend in Vegas, exhibiting their art. There are going to be some big names at the event. I don’t have to tell you what a big opportunity this is, do I? It’ll give you a leg up on everyone else in this room.”
I knew that. Of course I knew about the Vegas prize. It just slipped my mind seeing as I never quite expected to win in the first place. “Of course. Thank you, Professor.”
“Please, you are no longer my student. You can call me Mark.”
Uh, no. I don’t see that happening, but I respond with a smile.
My mind lingers on the thought of going to Las Vegas—a city far away from New York City and my family.
I wasn’t sure where I would go after graduation, but this is a chance to finally find out.
Thanks to the trust I inherited from my mother, I don’t need my father’s approval or support.
What I can’t and won’t tell my family is the fact that I intend to stay on the West Coast rather than return to New York once the weekend is over.
I can’t stay here.
Not while I’m drowning in these feelings I have for Nico. Wanting something that I cannot have. Here is the chance I’ve been hoping and waiting for. Finally.
***
“Absolutely not!”
My father’s fork drops onto the dining table with a loud clatter, but I rein in my temper, pushing back that little voice at the back of my mind calling for me to rage—to explode and react as strongly as he has.
The dining room falls silent, and I feel all eyes turn to me so I fight to maintain my cool.
“I am not asking for permission,” I say calmly. “I am twenty-two years old and don’t need to ask for permission to leave the city if I want to. I simply thought it appropriate to inform my family that I’m going to Las Vegas—”
“And I said no!” Well, I guess my father doesn’t care much for calm. “Do you have any idea what kind of a place Vegas is?”
“Well, how am I ever going to find out if no one ever lets me leave this city!”
“Gabriella!”
To hell with being calm. Blood roars in my head as I turn fully to face my father.
“This art exhibition could open doors and provide connections most fledgling artists can only ever dream of, and you’re blocking me from achieving my dreams because you think I can’t take care of myself?
Well, newsflash: I have been taking care of myself for years! ”
It’s not fair. Christ, it’s not fair to throw that in his face, and my chest tightens when I see my words hit the target.
My father’s jaw ticks, and his shoulders go rigid as he watches me.
“You are young,” he says, tone clipped. “You do not understand what is out there. My word is final, young lady!”
And just like that, the guilt fades, replaced yet again with indignation.
“I don’t need your permission or support,” I finally say when the silence stretches.
“I don’t need money. I have the trust Mama left for me, and that’s what I will use for this trip.
” And to start a new life, far, far away from this family.
Something like pain crosses his face, but it’s gone before anyone else can see it. “Matteo is the executor of that trust, and, without his permission, you cannot access the funds until you’re twenty-five.”