Chapter 8
Rodrigo's breath hitched. Giana was wearing loose, dark silk pajamas and a matching robe. It should have looked soft and vulnerable. Instead, it hung on her like armor.
Her face was still a little swollen, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes, but the eyes themselves were fierce, intelligent, blazing with a cold, furious light that pinned Rodrigo where he sat.
She moved into the room, her steps slow, betraying the pain she must have been feeling with every movement, but she didn't falter or look away. She walked toward him as if she owned the room.
This was the Giana who had spat at Gabriella's feet. This was the fire he had watched be banked but never extinguished. It was blazing now, fueled by pain and rage and a terrifying will.
Rodrigo's heart beat faster as the distance between them closed. She was the only woman who had ever made him lose his senses just by her proximity.
She stopped a few feet from him, her gaze sweeping over the assembled mercenaries, the maps, the dossiers before finally landing on Rodrigo again.
"You will never plan my future ever again." Her words echoed in the vast room.
Rodrigo stared at her, the carefully constructed ice of his control threatening to fracture. "Giana," he started, his voice rough. "You should be resting. The doctor—"
"The doctor," she interrupted, her eyes never leaving his, "isn't running this plan to find who is after me, and neither are you." She took another step closer, her gaze sweeping the table again, taking in the plans laid bare. "Not without me."
Rodrigo felt a surge of panic warring with a dawning, terrifying respect. "This isn't a discussion. You are not—"
Giana cut him off again, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.
"If you think that after what they did to me, after you pulled me back into this gilded fucking prison, that I'm going to sit in some silk-lined room playing the dumb, dutiful fiancée while you all plot revenge, think again, Rodrigo. "
She placed her good hand flat on the table and leaned toward him until he could see nothing but her beautiful, furious face.
"You want to use me as bait? Fine. Draw the bastard out.
Burn his world down. I want that too, but you don't get to pull the strings while I dance.
Not this time. I want access to every piece of intel.
Every plan. Every name. I want a seat at this table.
Not as your pawn or your prize but as your partner in this fight. "
The word rang in Rodrigo's ears. Partner.
Rodrigo felt the foundations of his world shift as he stared into her dark eyes. Caging that fire wouldn't protect it; it would snuff it out. The thought of her spirit crushed sent a deeper terror through him than any physical threat.
The silence stretched. Dario and Leo watched their brother, knowing the tectonic shift happening before him.
Rodrigo held Giana's gaze. The fire in her eyes mirrored the inferno of his own possessive need, but it was a different flame. Hers was forged in defiance and the demand for agency. His was forged in obsession and the terror of loss.
Could they burn together without consuming everything? He was just crazy enough to find out.
"Full access," he stated, finally finding his voice. "Every file. Every feed. Every operational detail. You want a seat at the table? You want to be a partner?" A ghost of something dangerous flickered in his expression. "Then prove you can play the game. Prove you can handle the fire."
A challenge and one terrifying step onto uncharted ground.
Giana's small smile met that challenge head-on, like always. The light in her eyes intensified, a fierce, predatory gleam that made desire burn through him.
She straightened, wincing only slightly, her bandaged hand a clenched fist at her side.
"Show me the board, Rodrigo," she said, her voice filled with steely confidence. "And I'll show you how to checkmate them."
A smile quirked the corners of Rodrigo's mouth before he could hide it. Their council had just gained its queen, and the game that had always been between them had irrevocably changed.
"Give her what she wants," he said, a thrill of dark anticipation running through him.
Leo brought up the photo of Vincenzo again. "This is…"
Giana interrupted him, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Fuck, Vincenzo Falcone is on your list?"
"At the top. Vincenzo wants his uncle's throne, but needs money to do it. He seems the likeliest person to try and grab you to make some quick money," Leo told her.
"You know him?" Rodrigo asked, a thread of jealousy in his voice.
"Yes, I do… I mean, I did," Giana replied and glanced back at him. "Before my father decided to declare war on your mother, he was in talks with his uncle, Enzo."
Rodrigo's eyes narrowed. "What talks? I didn't know about this."
"No one knew except for them and my mother." Giana stared back at the man on the screen. "I was meant to marry him."
Dario swore under his breath. "Did you have to tell him that?"
Rodrigo couldn't hear a thing over the roaring in his ears. "Did you have…feelings for him?"
"Uh oh," Athena whispered.
"What?" Giana looked at Rodrigo.
"Did you have feelings for him? Is that why you were engaged?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Giana raised an eyebrow. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. We had met a few times at social gatherings. He was sweet to me. He seemed…kind. My mother and his were already making plans, but it was yet to be announced."
"Vincenzo must have been pissed to lose you like that," Frederica commented, letting out a low whistle. "Makes sense that he would try and make a grab for you as soon as you were back on the market."
"She's not on the fucking market," Rodrigo snarled. "She's not fucking meat."
"She can speak for herself," Giana snapped back. "If Vincenzo is really the one after me, then I know a way we can find out that won't put any of our lives at risk."
Dario spoke before Rodrigo could. "And what would that be?"
"Simple." Giana shrugged her shoulders. "We send out an announcement about our impending nuptials. Maybe, you could even smile for some photos, Rodrigo, if you can manage one."
"Maybe I can send Vincenzo a car bomb instead," he replied hopefully.
Giana waved his comment away. "Don't be so dramatic. Save it for when they try to siege us."
From the other end of the table, Leo burst out laughing, and Rodrigo wanted to throw a knife at him. "She has got you cornered, big brother. Just do it her way."
"Yes, Rodrigo, be a good boy and don't argue," Giana said, fluttering her eyelashes and patting his cheek with her good hand.
Rodrigo caught it in his, his fingers locking on hers. The teasing light in her eyes vanished, turning into something he couldn't read. He rubbed his lips over the top of her knuckles before kissing her soft palm. "As my fiancée wishes."