6. It’s not stalking if she likes it
Giulia Moretti—no—Giulia Capaldi looks exquisite while she sleeps.
I’m not sure if it’s because she shuts her venomous mouth then. That can’t be it because I live for that shit. Riling her up is the most alive I’ve felt in… ever.
For someone who’s rumoured to seduce anyone she comes in contact with, she’s quick to anger. My lips tip up, thinking of the light pink hues on her skin when she gets mad.
She’s a gorgeous woman, there’s no doubt about it. But there is something singular about the way her dark green eyes brighten when she’s ready to fight for something. It’s not her obvious beauty that cemented my decision to marry her, it’s her fierce loyalty to her family and what seems to be an iron will. All qualities I’d covet in a partner.
For the second night in a row, I’m in her bedroom while she sleeps.
She didn’t lock the door when she took a bath yesterday, then again when she went to sleep. And again tonight. I’d love to give her space, but something tethers me to her uncontrollably. I told her I wasn’t a gentleman.
The first night, I didn’t expect her to be asleep. I was concerned how she fared. She kept telling her cousin Alana that she was okay and kept fussing over her, but the blue circles under her eyes were unmissable. I saw the deep concern etched on her freckled face and the dull shine of her green eyes. Maybe it’s why I want to set them on fire no matter the cost. Seeing her half-alive pulled something inside me I thought long buried, along with my father.
When I saw her body sprawled on the bed, I stayed rooted in place until my breathing synced up with the smooth rise and fall of her chest. Without thought, I settled into the club seat and dragged open the curtain to let the light of the moon shine on her delicate face, the red of her hair creating a halo around her head like a goddess.
Like entranced by a spell, I start with the same ritual tonight and look around me. The room already fits her style more than it did yesterday when there was nothing of hers inside. Now, my back presses comfortably against a yellow throw pillow. The doors of the built-in closet are open to reveal rows after rows of clothes and only three pairs of shoes. For the first time since I moved here, this house looks… lived-in. I’m not sure what to make of it.
I bring my eyes back on my new wife’s face and they stay there for the next few hours.
I rarely sleep and when I do, I wish I didn’t. The sofa in my office usually moonlights as a bed, mine merely a decoration in my room. I was in my bed, asleep and well, when my parent’s house burnt down a few streets over where I lived at the time, and everything changed. That was ten years ago. I haven’t had a good night”s sleep since then.
Now, I prefer to be ready to jump on my bike and go where I’m needed.
Watching Giulia sleep is as close as I can get to rest, and the experience is strange. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This state of peace and silence is strange, but not unpleasant. I watch as her chest rises and falls evenly and a very faint snoring sound comes from her parted lips. It’s too fucking adorable. She barely moves in her sleep, untroubled by insomnia or nightmares.
It’s irrational, but I vow to make sure she stays that way.
I must have dozed off when the first rays of light hit the bedroom and I’m reminded that she probably wouldn’t like to find me here. She will come to expect it, but that takes time.
My little wife is a fighter, but within only three days of knowing her and having her in my home, I live for it.
The peaceful woman and the fighter.
The boisterous laughter and scorching hot scowl.
The first one never happens because of me and the second is always directed at me. A situation I need to remedy fucking soon.
I go out silently and walk to the living room for a black coffee before heading to my desk, leaving the door to my office open. I want to hear Giulia wake up and curse me when she realises I’ve been inside her bedroom. The light will wake her up since I’ve purposefully let the curtains open.
When I get to my computer, the agenda app reminds me that the first fundraiser for my campaign is happening in ten days. We have so much to do before then. We need to get the rumour mill started if I want to introduce her as my wife then. That doesn’t leave a lot of space for Giulia and I to act like lovebirds.
I don’t do love though. If love truly existed, my father wouldn’t be dead. The people I love most wouldn’t have been hurt, or worse.
Giulia intrigues me, and pulls me close like a magnet. No one has ever had that type of effect on me. She tries her hardest to push me away and that makes me want to close in on her even more. No one ever pushed me away, I usually am the one doing that.
It won’t be too difficult to convince everyone it’s love. Scorn is the other side of the coin after all, and she hates me with the force of a hurricane.
Three hours later, I stand to prepare Giulia’s coffee, two shots with a dash of soy milk and three brown sugar cubes, then come back behind my desk. Like clockwork, the booming voice of the little warrior resonates through the house.
“You motherfucker!”
A smile peaks at the corner of my mouth, but I school my features to innocence.
She storms in, her eyes wild and cheeks pink with fury, looking like a red-haired goddess of battle. “Stay out of my room, you fucking creep!”
I hand her the coffee I prepared and she takes it, so I guess she has priorities. I hope she won’t throw it at my face.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, guerrieritta.”
“I know I closed the curtains last night, O baullo. Don’t come in when I’m asleep.”
“Don’t come in when you’re naked, don’t come in when you’re asleep. That’s a lot of rules to remember, sweetheart. Anything else I should know not to do in my own house?”
I’m goading her, but the fire in her green irises sets my soul aflame. It reminds me of the forest that borders my property, all lush and mysterious. She turns even redder, the colour spreading to her chest, barely covered by the simple cotton tee-shirt she wears with the shortest sleep shorts I’ve ever seen.
Fucking hell.
I swipe a hand over my face. Our arrangement needs to remain purely professional and I intend to keep it that way, but the thick thighs look smooth. I have half a mind to drop to my knees and beg her to smother me with them.
“It’s not your house anymore, it’s ours.” I love the sound of that, way too much. “If I’m your wife, you’ll let me have my space here.”
Oh, she loves to play dirty.
But I play dirtier.
I take a deep inhale to calm my raging heartbeat and close the space between us. She doesn’t budge from where she stands, but her eyes widen and she takes a sharp inhale.
“But see, sweetheart, you’re not my wife in truth, right?” I lift my hand and let a single finger caress her cheek to slowly trace the curve of her jaw and neck.
We’re a breath away from each other despite her using the cup of coffee in-between us as a shield. I can smell her hair and see the crease of the pillow on her temple. Without the armour of makeup and clothes, she looks exhausted and wary.
As much as I enjoy our back and forth, she won’t trust me or help me willingly if I keep pushing so I take a step back and change the subject.
“Before you storm out of here, and don’t deny it, because I know you will do both, I need to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“We have a reservation at Luigi tonight. It’s this new hot spot in the centre of West Hill. Wear something ravishing.”
She clicks her tongue before answering. “That’s not a question, and I always do.”
Don’t I fucking know it.Even in her skimpy pyjamas, she looks like the most beautiful and deadly woman I’ve ever seen. She might not be my wife for real, but our union will achieve what I have set out to do, I’m sure of it.
She storms out, giving me the best view I’ve had all morning, her lush ass swaying side to side as she slams the door of her bedroom close.
* * *
Later that afternoon, I knock on Giulia’s door. I want her to meet Mike, my campaign manager, and his girlfriend Amber, my PR manager. I poached her from my opponent, Parker Addams, months ago but it wasn’t hard. There’s a story there but I have yet to broach the subject with her. I’d definitely use all the dirt I have on this man to win. Unfortunately, he’s cleaner than a toilet bowl at a hotel.
Unlike the first time I saw her, when she wore sleepless nights and concern on her face, she now looks ready to own the world. The gunpowder grey wrap dress she wears looks like shining silver. It shows off her ample cleavage and moulds around her perfect body like a second skin. No jewellery adorn her neck and all I can think about is draping her in nothing but gold I paid for. I had no idea spending all my money on my woman would be so thrilling.
“Did you dress up for me, guerrieritta?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll have you know, I never do anything for men.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mumble. “You look stunning, dear wife. We need to go to my office before going to dinner. Mike and Amber are two key people I’d like you to meet. Nico will accompany us.”
Whether she’s willing or not, I need a partner and she’s a true asset. Having grown up as a mafia princess, she already knows how important reputations are and how gatherings of any kind can mean death if you’re not prepared. In the case of politics, any faux-pas could be the death of my budding career. She obviously would rather be anywhere but with me, but she knows who to charm, and that’s a skill I’m excited to put to use.
The introduction to my very reduced team is short but pleasant. I truly see Giulia at her most comfortable when other people are around. She smiles at them, compliments their work, asks questions. Nothing like the veiled threats when she talks to me. Somehow, that makes it even better. I’m the only one that sees her for who she is.
Even Nico, who never smiles, seems to relax around her. While I watch my wife talking about marketing strategy with Amber and Mike, I ask for his report.
“How did the trip go yesterday?”
“She’s intrigued by the city.”
“How can you tell?”
I turn to him for a second, but he’s also looking at Giulia in between a few looks around. Always watchful and on guard, my brother. I let him be and resume my observation of the most intriguing creature in my life.
“She looked through the window of the car like she wanted to absorb the city’s energy.”
“What else?”
“She loves to fight.”
That makes me smile, because I’ve been the first—and only—recipient of her barbs so far, but if Nico picked up on it, it’s more obvious than her sunshine persona would have us believe. “I know.”
“She ran into Addams.”
“What?” My head snaps to him, our eyes colliding. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything? And where were you?”
“On the other side of the street, watching the entrance of the shop,” he says matter-of-the-factly. “She was at that lingerie place. You should be happy, I considered her comfort first.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose because he’s right. She wouldn’t have been comfortable if he followed her around while she picked up new panties. My brother has a hard time deviating from his goals, and his goal then was to protect her, but he did. With years of practice, he’s become an expert at picking apart people, observing their every reaction for clues on what they feel.
“Fine, fine. What happened?”
“I think he just introduced himself. I was within hearing distance in two minutes. She dismissed him when he implied I was a threat to her, and then he left.”
That’s my girl.
I don’t like that she met Addams before I can tell her who he is. That man is my political opponent, but I have a bad feeling about him. In this life, you learn to rely on your instincts when they tell you something’s wrong. And to be vigilant when they stay silent.
“If that ever happens again, call me immediately.”
Nico simply nods, and I know I can count on him to protect Giulia.
I take a look at my watch and walk to Giulia, my hand landing at the small of her back on its own accord.
“We’re gonna be late, guerrieritta.”
She clenches her jaw, probably to avoid making a jab at me while we’re supposed to be in love. Mike and Amber both know our marriage isn’t traditional and that our timeline is accelerated because of the campaign, but they don’t know we didn’t meet until four days ago.
When we enter Luigi, the sleek modern decor of the restaurant, made of harsh lines with black and grey metal everywhere, can’t divert my eyes from the real star in the room. I wonder if Giulia chose her dress to match the place. She looks like she belongs here, front and centre stage.
She smiles widely at the waiter, who smiles back, so I take her hand in mine, linking our fingers together, in a ridiculous show of ownership I’ve never displayed with anyone before.
It has the expected effect. He takes a small step back, drops the Colgate smile, and disappears after announcing tonight’s special, a beetroot tartare with umeboshi and amaranth crumble. Too fancy and weird for my taste, but this upcoming chef specialises in vegan dishes.
“Was that really necessary?” Giulia drawls.
“No, but it was fun to see him piss his pants, and need I remind you, wife, that we’re here on a mission?”
She leans over the table and places her hand on top of mine, eliciting a new kind of warmth to spread under my skin. Her bright smile is finally directed at me but the edge underneath is all stormy and menacing. I love it.
“Underestimate me again, husband, and I’ll stab you with my fork. Watch and learn.”
For the rest of the evening, Giulia shines her brightest light on me. Her smile never dims, her charm never wavers. It all feels wrong. Fake. But everyone around us drinks it like kool-aid. The only real moment we share is a conspiratorial look when we witness one of other guests snapping a picture of us, hands linked on top of our table. It’s my favourite of the evening.
“Let the games begin,” she says, clinking her glass of sparkling water to mine. Kinship is something I only have with Nico. If I can allow myself to have that with someone else, someone I could trust, it would change the game and bring my ambitions to life.
Long after we’re back at the cottage, I walk to her bedroom door. It’s locked, as I thought it would be. Good thing it’s my house and I have all the keys and tools to open any door.
I enter and take my seat. Giulia’s regular breathing lulls me to sleep for a couple of hours and when I wake up, it’s harder to leave than it was yesterday.
I stand above her sleeping form, the dark blue sheets a stark contrast to her pale skin, and engrave her peaceful face in my brain. With a light finger, I move a strand of silky hair from her face, drawing the lightest contented sigh from Giulia’s lips. The sound will haunt me until the end of our fake marriage.