Chapter Six
Gianna
Lying in bed dreaming is me living my best life.
Smiling as I snuggle into my sheets, I inhale the sweet cherry cigar scent that reminds me of Gabriel. Last night we stayed out on the beach for hours, much longer than I even realized. I wanted to go home with him. To stay with him, if he would let me. I could not tell him that.
The truth is—I hate the idea of being apart now.
We talked about dreams being lost in the hard lifestyle we were born into. Gabriel told me about losing his father, a man who might have been a criminal but was the best man he knew. His desire to make him proud, to do right by his memory drove him to take the lead as capo of the Capelli’s.
There was a time that I dreamt of leaving this world. Living life the way the rest of society does. Working a job, getting a house in the suburbs, having kids and baking birthday cakes or meat loaf on Tuesday’s. Now I have one dream, a dream that he has convinced me can come true.
I want to be his. Whatever that means. His princess, his queen, his dirty little secret.
“I meant all the things I’ve said, princess,” he rasped last night as he dropped me off a few blocks from my father’s house. “I won’t ever make a promise I do not keep. Not to you. You will not be married to another man. You will not be your father’s caged bird soon. I will set you free, Gianna.”
Last night, he did set me free. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I could go anywhere with him, do anything we wanted, without repercussions. That is a freedom I have never known. Even if I have to wait to be with him, that feeling is worth being patient.
“Not that I am a patient princess,” I mutter as I climb from bed.
In the shower as I lather my skin up with the luxurious strawberry soap I got from Italy, I cannot stop thinking about him. About how he touched me. How much I loved it when he spanked me. It turned me on until I was soaking wet, stunning me. I never knew I would have that sort of kink inside me.
Now I want to upset him, to push him, so he does it again. Just thinking about his big palm smacking my ass makes my clit pulse beneath the water. I gasp as the sensitive bud swells under the pressure of the shower. Stepping back, I lift my hips, hands sliding over my soapy breasts, visions of Gabriel on his knees, his mouth licking at me driving me mad.
“Oh...oh, yes,” I cry out as the hot water hits my clit just right, playing into the fantasy until an orgasm rocks me out of nowhere. “Oh! Gabriel!”
Under the hot spray, I tremble from the power of my climax. I am aching when I step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. I step out of the en suite, stunned to see an unwelcome guest in my bedroom. I reach for my robe, feeling wrong wrapped in just a towel with Santino’s greedy glare eating me up.
“Looks as if I came a moment too late. I could have joined you,” he declares as he saunters over, circling me the way a shark does its prey.
“Wh-w-what're you doing here? In my bedroom?”
“Can’t I see my future bride whenever I choose? I missed you,” his sharp tone, cold as ice, makes his claim fall flat.
“No one should be in here. This is my space. My only fucking space.”
“Better get used to sharing your space with me, mi bella ,” he hisses, running his nose along my bare shoulder.
Squaring my shoulders, I step back from him, struggling to keep my cool. Any other time, I would mouth off. I would tell him to get lost. Shout or scream or throw a fit. It turns out I might not be the princess I joked I was—I might just be a little brat.
“Not yet. Not until the wedding,” I declare, my voice strong. “Until then I am free. Get out of my bedroom. It is not proper for you to be here now.”
“Calm down, mi bella ,” he says as if he has bored of my antics so fast. “I just came to let you know we’re going to dinner tomorrow. Need to make an appearance as the besotted lovers. Everyone should see that you’re mine.”
Shaking my head but refusing to respond, I wait for him to go. He might think as my fiancé he has a right to my body. He is wrong. Even if I have to go through with the marriage, I will never give him my body.
Once he leaves, I consider taking a second shower. Him touching me or even looking at me after last night with Gabriel makes me feel filthy. I panic at the idea of Gabriel finding out he was here, that he touched me, so I give on taking another shower. All I can think about is getting to Gabriel to tell him what just happened, and what Santino has demanded of me.
Dressing in a light pink dress that hangs off my shoulders with thin straps and a ruffled drape, I stumble as I slide on sandals. Piling my damp hair atop my head, I try to decide the best way to get to him. Recalling the bodyguard, he sent after me, I decide he ought to be of some help.
Making it outside through the gardens, I reach the high stone wall that is meant to keep me inside. Climbing up on the boulder that took me an entire day to roll to a corner of the wall, I almost laugh. What a rebel I am. I hoist myself up and swing my leg over the wall and now I am laughing.
Sitting there in plain sight is the bodyguard from yesterday. As if he knew I would be coming out this way. Smirking at me, he opens the door, bending at the waist to wave me in. We both laugh as I jog across the street, never even looking back.
“I presume you want to see the boss, Ms. Bianchi?”
“You presume correct. Smart guy. I will sing your praises to him.”
“Please do. Still trying to prove myself to him and Dario.”
On the drive to his penthouse in the flashiest borough of Silver Shores, this young bodyguard never says a word. It is not a tense or uncomfortable quiet. Rather we’re just in our own thoughts and at ease with each other. I do not feel the judgement or contempt I often do with my old bodyguards.
We pull up in front of a towering, gleaming glass building. It is the tallest in town and with the sun shining overhead, it sparkles almost as a glittering castle might. Remembering how Gabriel calls me his princess, I am beaming as I head inside and board the elevator. Stefano, my new bodyguard, let me know how to get in and suggested Gabriel will be expecting me.
Riding up in the elevator, I am shaking. Anxious to see him, to feel his hands on me, to feel the magic he creates inside of me. I bounce on the balls of my feet, wringing my hands in front of me. As soon as the elevator doors slide open, I am afraid if have made a huge mistake.
Two beautiful, elegant women sit at a wide, long couch that fills the sunken in sitting room. It is a beautiful room, just as I imagined, with gold and marble accents, dark photos of the city hanging on the walls. Outside the entire city sits below, gray against the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Oh. Who is this?” One of the women call, glancing back at me.
“Uh...uh, hi? Hello...I think I might have....” Stumbling over my words as well as my two left feet, I start to back up. To get the hell out of here.
“No, no, wait. Tell us what brought you here.”
Shaking my head, I feel shameful tears flood my eyes as my vision blurs. How could I have been so stupid? Why would I have believed all those things he said to me? Did he say them to these women too? Has he...has he touched them the way he touched me?
Disgust twists my stomach as I shuffle backwards. I hit the closed door of the elevator, almost sliding to the floor. Flushing with embarrassment, I turn to mash the call button, my breath trembling out of me. Behind me I hear them whispering and I whirl to tell them to stop it. To shut up. Not to talk about me or what a fool I have made of myself.
“Princess? What is wrong? What has happened, Gianna?”
Hearing his voice call my name is as if someone shoved blades through my chest. I turn to glare at him, hating how beautiful he is, how that need I have felt grow and grow for him since we met still burns inside of me. I am such a stupid, spoiled, silly little girl to have come here. To have run to him.
“Let me go. I should never have come here. I had no idea you...that they...I should have known. I am such a stupid girl.”
“Baby,” his voice is so soft, so gentle, tears slip down my cheeks. I try to hide it, but he sees it and rushes to me, dragging me back from the elevator. “Come talk to me. If someone has hurt you, I swear to God....”
“ You hurt me,” the words sound tiny, weak, defeated.
“Gabriel do not let her go. That sweet girl is so upset,” one of the women chastise in a tone that tells me she has done this before. Chastised him for some wrongdoing, not watched the trainwreck I am making.
“Please don’t,” I whisper, my words choked. “Let me go.”
“Never going to fucking happen, princess,” he growls, lips against my ear, his hands gripping my hips to yank me back against him.
Flushing in shame, I glance back at the women again. Surely, he is not going to put his hands on me in front of them? Is that how these people do things? I hope not. I am not here to put on a show. Glancing back at the two beautiful women, I am struck with the obvious.
They’re very beautiful, no doubt. Just about as beautiful as he is. With the same strange colored eyes, the same nose, almost the same face entirely. Holy shit. What a mess I have made of things! What a stupid little girl I am.
Of course they’re just as beautiful—they're his sisters.