32. Elysa
THIRTY-TWO
Elysa
T he first time I saw the photos, I was standing in the middle of the bistro’s kitchen, my hands coated in flour from rolling out the dough for fresh focaccia, which I’d become pretty good at making.
I was hoping to serve it to Dante and show off my skills.
Sofia came rushing in, her face pale.
She held her phone out to me like a live grenade.
"Elysa," she said urgently.
"You need to see this."
I wiped my hands on my apron and took the phone.
I skimmed the headline, my pulse barely flickering at the words in Italian.
Dante Giordano’s Secret Affair with Lawyer Lucia Falcone: Scandal Rocking the Giordano Empire.
I exhaled sharply through my nose.
O h, for fuck’s sake.
Then I saw the photos.
There was one of Dante and Lucia at a bar—taken from an angle that made it look intimate, but I could tell from the way his shoulders were inclined that he’d probably been leaning away from her.
Another of her laughing too brightly, touching his arm in that possessive way that women like her did when they wanted to be noticed.
And then there was the photo that had been taken on a train.
That one stopped me cold—not because it was scandalous, but because I recognized it immediately.
It was from the trip we had taken to Piedmont together.
In the picture, Lucia was sitting beside Dante, leaning forward just enough to make it look intimate.
But I knew exactly when it had been taken.
They were sitting with his whole team.
It wasn’t just the two of them.
Now, cropped and manipulated, it looked like something entirely different.
Something designed to hurt him.
I gripped the phone tighter, heat rising to my cheeks.
“This is bullshit,” I muttered sharply.
“Is he…is he?”
“No, of course not. You’ve met him. Does he look like the type who’d ever cheat on his wife?”
Sofia shrugged.
“Men will be men, si ?”
“Well, he’s not that type of man,” I said emphatically.
“Let me see.” Maura held out her hand.
I handed her Sofia’s phone.
“Wow! They…wow…look pretty damning.” She studied me carefully.
“So…you’re not angry?”
“Hell to the yes, I am. But not with Dante. I’m pissed with that bitch Lucia.”
I couldn’t believe she’d done this.
She was pissed that Dante had removed her from his business and his life, livid that she had lost access, power, and, most importantly, relevance.
“I’m going to see Dante,” I announced.
I called him as I walked to the metro.
“Where are you?”
“I was going to call you, bella mia , I?—”
“Where are you?”
I heard him sigh.
“I’m at the Palazzo.”
“Meet me at the flat,” I told him and hung up, too angry to speak coherently.
I got to the flat first, and by the time Dante walked in, I was fuming.
He looked exhausted and…
scared?
I didn’t move from where I stood, arms crossed, waiting.
Not for an explanation—I didn’t need one.
He dropped his wallet on the console by the door and dragged a hand through his hair.
"Elysa." My name was a question and a request to not lose my shit.
I lifted a brow.
"So, Lucia’s gone full psycho. That must be fun for you. "
“No, it’s not fun, Elysa.” He walked toward me like he was approaching a wild animal.
“I know you’re angry, but hear me out, okay? I didn’t?—"
“Oh, I’m livid,” I snapped.
“I never did any of those things they wrote about. You have to believe me,” he pleaded.
“What?” I asked confused. “I’m not angry with you, and of course, you didn’t do any of those things. I’m furious with Lucia.”
Relief flickered across his face. He grabbed me and kissed me soundly. “Fuck!” He muttered between kisses. “Fuck! I thought I was going to lose you.”
“Because of some dumb photographs?” I gaped at him, and then, because I knew he needed it, I smirked. “No, you have to say that being with me isn’t enough, and that you think someone else would be a more fitting wife… then you lose me.”
He sighed. “I’m so relieved.”
“We made a deal, didn’t we? That we’d communicate?” I cupped his face and went on tiptoe to kiss his lips.
“Yes, we did.”
I dragged him to the couch, and he slumped like he had no energy left.
“I should have seen it coming. I should have shut this down before?—”
“You did shut it down,” I cut him off. “You fired her. You did everything right. And now she’s out for blood because you wouldn’t give her what she wanted. "
Dante exhaled sharply, standing up again to pace the room. “The press is eating this up. The board is nervous, and Pippa?—”
“What’s the plan to bury her?” I demanded.
His head snapped up. "What?"
I lifted my chin. "She wants attention, right? Let's make sure the only headlines she gets are about how bitter and pathetic she is."
A slow smile curved at his lips. “You’re dangerous, mi leoncina .”
I smiled back, but it was all teeth. "You have no idea. Ask Pippa to come over here. I’m going to open a bottle of wine. I need alcohol to keep my cool.”
I’d had a glass of wine with cheese and bread and was feeling mellow when Pippa Leto, the head of public relations at Giordano Hotel Group, came to the flat.
She said yes to the wine and no to the cheese. “I’m getting married in two months, and I need to fit in the wedding dress,” she explained.
Pippa was a curvy woman, and I liked that about her. Like me, and unlike Lucia, she wasn’t a stick figure without a soul. (Yes, that was a Sex And the City reference. Duh ! I was a New York girl, after all.)
“We need to get ahead of this.” Her glasses were perched at the edge of her nose as she looked through her laptop. "The press is having a field day, and if we don’t respond, they’ll just keep speculating. A press conference with both of you will be the cleanest way to address this."
“No,” Dante said firmly.
Pippa blinked, clearly not expecting such an immediate rejection. “Dante, staying silent isn’t an option. The longer you go without addressing this, the more control you lose over the narrative.”
“I don’t care about that.” His tone was clipped. His jaw was tight. His hands were curled into fists on the table. "I am not putting Elysa in front of cameras to clean up a mess that Lucia created."
Pippa hesitated before turning to me. “Elysa, I understand how difficult this must be, but?—”
“No,” Dante interrupted. “This is my mess, Pippa. I’ll deal with it.”
His protectiveness sent a slow warmth through me, even as I narrowed my eyes at Pippa.
"I’m not playing the humiliated wife in a redemption arc,” I remarked.
Pippa exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What do you suggest?"
Dante looked at me, waiting.
I gritted my teeth. "Lucia planted this story, which means she left a trail. Let’s find it. And then we make sure she drowns in the same media storm she tried to throw at us."
Pippa studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I’ll see what I can find."
When Pippa left, Dante turned to me, searching my face. “Are you really okay with this?”
“No. She’s suing you for sexual harassment, saying you fired her because you were having an affair, and I found out. Christ! The woman is a lunatic.”
Dante shook his head like he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t walking away from him. Instead, I was being supportive.
“You’re not the only one who gets to protect what’s ours.”
His gaze held mine for a long moment, and something unspoken passed between us. Then, slowly, he reached for my hand, his fingers firm and certain.
“Move back in,” I said before I could stop myself.
His head snapped up again, his grip tightening slightly. “Are you sure?”
I swallowed hard. "Yes, because I love you.”
His lips parted slightly like he was in awe. “Yes, then, because I love you too.”
I squeezed his hand. "And together, we’re going to burn Lucia to the ground."
Dante threw his head back and laughed. It was real, full-throated, and perfect. I wanted him to keep laughing like that forever.