Giovanni
GIOVANNI
I t’s January 5th, and the holiday break that felt like a blissful eternity is over.
Chiara has been seeing a therapist, her choice, and while I had my reservations at first, I can’t deny that it’s helped her. She’s more grounded, more sure of herself, and I’m fucking proud of her for it.
But with that confidence has come a stubborn streak that’s been driving me up the damn wall.
We step off the jet into the cold January air, the crisp wind biting at our faces. The familiar sight of Willow Bridge greets us, the imposing buildings standing tall against the winter sky. It’s a place that’s become both a fortress and a battleground for us, and as much as I hate parts of it, it’s home now.
“Back to the grind,” I mutter, stuffing my hands into my pockets as we walk toward the waiting SUV. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
Chiara looks up at me, a spark of annoyance in her eyes. “Gio, I’ve been through worse. I can handle a few weeks of classes.”
I raise an eyebrow at her tone, a smirk playing on my lips. “Is that so? Just a few weeks of classes, huh? No Mafia bullshit, no fights, no nothing?”
She rolls her eyes, her breath visible in the cold air as she lets out an exasperated sigh. “Well, if you’re planning on causing trouble, that’s on you.”
I chuckle, reaching out to pull her closer to me. “You know us, Kitten. Trouble seems to follow us wherever we go.”
She doesn’t argue with that. Instead, she just leans into me, letting out a small huff of laughter. “Yeah, well, maybe this time we can try to avoid it.”
As we settle into the SUV, the driver heading toward the Crown Suites, I can’t help but steal glances at her. There’s something different about her lately, something stronger, more resolute. And while I’m fucking glad she’s finding her feet again, it’s also making things … complicated.
We’ve spent hours training together, day in and day out. I’ve taught her hand-to-hand combat, how to handle knives, how to shoot with precision. She’s become a fucking force to be reckoned with, and it makes my heart swell to see her so determined, so fierce.
I wasn’t about to let my fiancée feel powerless ever again. I’ve seen what it’s like when she’s scared, when she feels like she can’t protect herself, and I never want to see that look in her eyes again.
There’s also this part of me that hates it—hates that she has to learn these things at all. As much as I don’t want her to feel powerless ever again, I also don’t want her to lose that softness that makes her who she is.
But that strength, that fire, it’s made her more … determined. She wants to push things, especially with us, with our intimacy. And fuck, I want her too—God knows how much I want her—but I’ve been trying to make her wait. Trying to protect her, even if it’s from herself .
“Gio,” she says, her voice cutting through my thoughts. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I glance at her, seeing the way she’s studying me, those sharp eyes not missing a damn thing.
“Nothing,” I lie, because I’m not ready to have this conversation again. “Just thinking about how much I hate this fucking place.”
She doesn’t buy it. “Liar,” she says flatly, turning in her seat to face me. “You’ve been weird since we got back. What’s really going on?”
I let out a sigh, knowing I can’t keep dodging this. “You’ve been pushing yourself hard, Chiara. I just don’t want you to overdo it.”
“Overdo it?” she echoes, huffing as she crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not a fucking damsel in distress. I don’t need you to save me—I need you to stand by my side and let me fight for myself.”
I run a hand through my hair, the frustration mounting. “I’m not saying you can’t fight for yourself. But I’m your fucking fiancé, Chiara. It’s my job to protect you, to make sure you’re safe. If that means being a little overprotective, then so fucking be it.”
Her eyes narrow, and I can see the frustration building. “You think I’m not ready? You think I’m still too messed up to know what I want? Don’t you trust my judgment?”
“That’s not what I said,” I reply quickly, trying to keep my voice calm. “You think I don’t trust you? I trust you with my fucking life, Chiara. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let my guard down, not for a second. Not when it comes to you.”
She’s silent for a moment, her gaze locked on mine, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. Then, she leans forward, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.
“And what about when it comes to us? When it comes to … to being together? ”
I feel my gut twist at her words, the frustration boiling over into something more dangerous. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She doesn’t back down, meeting my gaze head-on. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Gio. You’ve been holding back, and I’m tired of it. I want to be with you—completely. I want to be intimate; to have you touch me like you used to. But you keep pushing me away, like I’m some fragile thing that’s going to break if you touch me too hard.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go. “I do want to be close to you, you have no fucking idea how much I want that. But I’m trying to be smart about this. I’m trying to make sure we’re both ready.”
She clenches her fists, her voice rising in frustration. “I’m ready, . I want this. I want you. And I hate that you keep treating me like I’m broken, like I’m some delicate flower that needs to be protected.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my own emotions in check. “You’re not broken, Chiara. But you are healing, and I’m not going to rush this, no matter how much you think you’re ready. I’m not going to let you do something you might regret later.”
She glares at me, her jaw set in that stubborn way that drives me fucking insane. “I won’t regret it, Gio. I know what I want, and I’m tired of waiting for you to catch up.”
I shake my head, feeling the frustration bubbling over. “This isn’t about me catching up, Chiara. This is about you needing time to heal. I’m not going to rush you into something just because you think you’re ready. I’m trying to protect you, dammit.”
She huffs, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t need protection, Gio. I need you to see me as an equal. As someone who can handle this, who can handle us. ”
“I do see you as an equal,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you make a decision that could fuck you up even more.”
She looks at me, her eyes blazing with anger and frustration. “And what if I’m already too fucked up? What if this is what I need to feel whole again? What if being with you—really being with you—is the only thing that’s going to make me feel like myself?”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. I hate that she feels this way, that she’s so desperate to prove she’s okay that she’s willing to push herself to the limit.
But I also know that she’s right, in a way. She’s not the same girl she was before, and maybe I’ve been holding on too tight, trying to protect her when what she really needs is to feel in control again.
“Chiara…” I start, my voice rough with emotion. “I love you. More than anything. And I want you—I want you so fucking much it hurts. But I’m not going to let you rush into something just because you feel like you need to prove something. You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
She softens slightly at my words, the anger in her eyes fading as she looks at me, really looks at me.
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” she says, her voice softer now. “I just … I want to feel close to you. I want to feel like we’re in this together, like we’re not just two people going through the motions.”
I reach out, taking her hand in mine, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “We are in this together, Kitten. But you have to trust me when I say that I’m not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush this. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
She looks down at our joined hands, and I can see the conflict in her eyes, the war she’s fighting between wanting to push forward and needing to take a step back. Finally, she nods, letting out a shaky breath.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay, I’ll wait. But I’m not going to wait forever, Gio. I need you to know that.”
“I know,” I say softly, lifting her hand to my lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “And I promise, when the time is right, I won’t hold back. But right now, I need you to trust me. Trust that I’m doing this because I love you, not because I don’t want you.”
She nods again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I trust you, babe. I just … I just want to feel like I’m not broken. I know you’re just trying to look out for me. But I’m not going to break. And I need you to be with me, not just physically, but emotionally, too.”
I nod, pulling her closer to me. “I’m with you, baby, all the way. I promise, I’ll stop being such a fucking idiot about this as long as you promise not to push so much.”
She laughs softly, resting her head against my shoulder. “Good. Because I don’t know how much more of your overprotective shit I can take.”
I chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ve got my word. No more babying. We’ll figure it out as we go.”
She snuggles closer to me, her hand resting on my chest as we ride in silence for a while. There’s still so much we need to work through, so many things we need to figure out, but for the first time in a while, I feel like we’re on the same page. And that’s a start.
As we pull up to the Crown Suites, I look down at her, taking in the way she’s holding herself, the confidence in her every move. She’s not the same girl I met months ago—she’s stronger, fiercer, more sure of herself.
“Ready to take on the world, Kitten?” I ask, a smirk playing on my lips.
She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with determination. “With you, always.”