Chapter 18
The following day, Giana's faint scent still lingered in Rodrigo's rooms long after she had left them.
He stood by the cold fireplace, a half-drunk espresso cooling on the mantel beside him. He traced the rim of the delicate cup, his mind replaying the previous night on an endless, torturous loop.
He would never forget the look on her face when he had walked out of the bathroom for as long as he lived. The shock in her wide eyes and the flush that had painted her cheeks. It had been raw, unfiltered appreciation.
Of him. The monster.
Rodrigo had stood there like a complete idiot, unsure of what to do. He let her see the ink on his skin of the fortress walls coiling around his biceps, the raven on his chest, symbols of his own cage that continued to haunt him.
For the first time, he wanted Giana to see him vulnerable. To see that he wasn't just the monster forged in Gabriella's cold ambition, but a man who burned for her.
Her shaky but defiant comment of 'Just assessing you for potential weaknesses' had been a spark in the dark.
God, he wanted to kiss her and show her exactly what kind of feelings she inspired in him. The urge had been a physical ache, a tightening in his gut and dick. He had barely managed to bank it and let her walk away from him.
Having Giana in his space, in his bed… It was like a homecoming he hadn't known he craved. The quiet rustle of her settling under the covers and the soft sigh as sleep claimed her were mundane and intimate, but they had filled the silence of his rooms with a sense of rightness.
Rodrigo had lain awake on the couch long after Giana drifted off to sleep, staring into the dying embers of the fire, listening to her breathe, wrestling with the terrifying, exhilarating truth that he finally was safe enough to admit that he was absolutely and hopelessly in love with Giana Sorrentino and had been for a very long time.
Their morning had been normal. Surprisingly, beautifully normal. They had woken, a slightly awkward silence hanging between them that had quickly dissolved into practicalities.
They had gone down to the gym together before breakfast. No words were needed as they had fallen into a rhythm of stretches and light drills, a silent acknowledgment of the previous day's intensity.
He had focused on footwork and evasion, teaching her how to slip a grab, how to use her smaller size and speed to her advantage, keeping the contact professional, the atmosphere charged but controlled.
Giana had been focused, determined, her movements gaining fluidity. Watching her move, the fierce concentration on her face, the way strands of dark hair escaped her ponytail to cling to her damp temples, had been its own kind of torture.
It was a glimpse of a life he desperately wanted: partnership, trust, the shared rhythm of purpose. The triumphant grin after she had successfully dodged a lunge tightened his body with lust and longing.
A knock at the heavy suite door sounded, and Dario poked his head in, his usual sardonic expression firmly in place. "They're ten minutes out. You planning to greet our esteemed guests in your gym clothes, fratello? Or should I tell Silas you're too busy admiring your own reflection?"
Rodrigo shot him a withering look and drained the cold espresso, the bitter liquid grounding him.
"Tell Leo to confirm the surveillance feed diversion is active, and ensure Athena hasn't decided to 'test' the welcome protocols near the front gate just for fun."
Dario grinned. "Already done. Kon's keeping her occupied, but try to remember Silas raised her and would see any of her tricks a mile away anyway." He vanished as quickly as he appeared.
Rodrigo took a quick shower and put on dark, impeccably tailored trousers and a crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He avoided the tie Giana had threatened to use for purposes beyond sartorial elegance. It would only remind him of the night before and distract him more than he already was.
He looked at the small, red velvet box on his top shelf. He had taken it from his personal safe the day before and stared at the contents for a long time. He had put it in his wardrobe, deciding to let it sit there until the perfect moment.
Today was about performance and projecting the image of a man blissfully distracted by love and impending matrimony, not one coiled tight with inconvenient desire. The distracted part he could do nothing about. Everything about Giana made him lose his usual common sense and self-preservation.
Moments later, Rodrigo found Giana in the grand entrance hall, talking quietly with Leo, who was showing her something on a tablet.
She wore a simple, elegant dress in deep emerald that made her skin glow. Her hair was loosely pinned up, exposing the graceful line of her neck, and her makeup was nothing more than a few flicks of liquid eyeliner and red lips. She looked so radiant that he found he was having trouble breathing.
Mine, mine, mine, a voice chanted inside of him.
Giana turned as he approached, and their eyes met. A small, tentative smile touched her lips. "Ready for our audience?"
The simple question sent warmth spreading through his chest. He offered his arm. "As ready as I'll ever be, anima mia."
Giana slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, her touch light but firm. The contact was hot, even through the fabric of his shirt. He covered her hand with his own, a possessive gesture that felt as natural as breathing.
Leo gave them a knowing look and a secret thumbs-up before turning back to his tablet to monitor the approaching vehicles.
The low thrum of powerful engines announced the arrival, and moments later, the heavy front doors swung open, framing their guests against the Tuscan sunlight.
Silas Edgeworth entered first, his sharp gaze sweeping the hall before landing on Rodrigo and Giana.
A wide smile touched his lips as he said in a deep rumble, "Rodrigo. Giana. Congratulations seem to be in order."
Beside him, Iz practically vibrated with energy. Her bright eyes darted around, taking in the vaulted ceilings, the polished marble, before zeroing in on Giana.
"Wow, this place is even creepier and more gorgeous than I remember. Congrats, Giana! Though, honestly, locking yourself down with this grumpy bastard?" She jerked a thumb at Rodrigo, grinning cheekily. "Bold move. I like it."
Rodrigo merely raised an eyebrow at Iz's irreverence. Giana, however, laughed, a warm sound that eased some of the tension in Rodrigo's shoulders.
"He grows on you," she said lightly, squeezing his arm.
"Like a particularly attractive fungus," Iz agreed cheerfully.
Julian Burbank entered next, looking every inch the distinguished rare objects dealer and occasional underworld power broker in an expensive but understated suit, silver-streaked hair perfectly groomed, cold blue eyes missing nothing.
He offered a polite, measured nod. "Rodrigo. Miss Sorrentino. A pleasure to see you again under such improved circumstances."
He kissed Giana's hand with a charm Rodrigo didn't entirely like. He knew it was ridiculous because Julian only had eyes for one woman, and she was behind him.
Altun Baruk, the Sorceress of Istanbul, moved with an unhurried grace that belied her true age and power. The stark silver streak in her otherwise dark hair had made her even more striking. Her presence commanded attention, a quiet hum of contained energy that seemed to shift the air in the room.
Her gaze landed on Frederica, who had materialized near Dario by the grand staircase, and a wide smile touched Altun's lips.
"Merhaba canim, nasilsin?" Altun's voice was a smooth contralto, rich as honey. She crossed the hall, arms opening.
Frederica met her halfway, an unguarded expression of affection on her face as she stepped into the embrace. "Altun, I'm good. It's so nice to see you." They hugged tightly, a moment of true affection amidst the calculated performance.
"Staying out of trouble?" Altun asked softly as they parted, her hands resting on Frederica's shoulders.
Frederica's usual sarcastic mask slipped back into place, but her eyes remained warm. "Doing my best."
A loud, disbelieving snort came from Dario. Altun's sharp green gaze flicked to him, then back to Frederica, one elegant eyebrow arching in silent question.
Frederica just shrugged, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "He's still bitter about that job in Rome."
"Because Gabriella never shut up about it," Dario muttered under his breath.
Julian had drifted closer to Rodrigo and Giana, his gaze still subtly appraising her.
"A remarkable transformation, Miss Sorrentino," he commented. "From sheltered asset to taking Rodrigo's cold heart. Quite the thief, aren't you?"
Julian's words, though friendly, carried a little too much of the truth. Were his feelings for her that obvious? Surely not.
Before either of them could respond, Altun glided over, her presence instantly commanding the space around Julian.
"Julian, darling," she said, her tone still holding the warmth she had shown Frederica. "Are you being polite or trying to make everyone slightly more uncomfortable than they already are?"
She didn't wait for his reply, turning instead to Giana. "Giana Sorrentino. The queen emerges."
Giana blinked. "I… thank you? It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Baruk. Kon speaks very highly of you."
Altun waved a dismissive hand, adorned with several intricate silver rings. "Kon is biased. And please, call me Altun."
Her gaze swept the grand entrance hall again, lingering on the Colleoni insignia prominently displayed above the main doors.
"With you here to give Rodrigo artistic advice," she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "I do hope there are some plans to remove all of this testicle decor now that Gabriella is no longer here to polish them so obsessively."
A burst of laughter escaped Giana, bright and unfettered. Rodrigo felt it vibrate through her arm where it rested against his. He couldn't help the slight twitch of his own lips.
The ancient symbol of his family, three pairs of human testes in red and white, had become hearts in the later generations. Gabriella had treated the insignia with near-religious fervor, and they were everywhere around the property, in all their iterations.
"We're still in the de-cluttering phase," Rodrigo said with a soft laugh, his gaze meeting hers. "I'll give you a discount if you want to buy some."
"Altun is only interested in buying magical things," Athena chimed in.
"In my experience, Colleoni balls are pretty damn magical," Dante said, straight-faced.
Rodrigo fought the urge to shoot him.
"What do you think, Giana? Are Colleoni balls magical?" Frederica asked, innocently batting her eyelashes.
Correction: Rodrigo would shoot her, then Dante.
"I think that you should find out for yourself. Dario's balls are free," Giana replied sweetly, making Rodrigo choke awkwardly and forget about shooting any of them.
"Can I use them like Baoding balls and roll them around in my hand to relax?" Frederica clapped back without missing a beat.
"You stay the fuck away from my balls," Dario said, holding his hands in front of his crotch to protect himself.
Frederica huffed. "You are just no fun at all."
"See what you did by mentioning balls? I hope you're happy," Rodrigo said to Altun.
"Thrilled, actually." Altun's smile widened, and she smoothly linked her arm through Giana's free one, drawing her slightly away from Rodrigo.
"Now that the others are distracted, my dear, you must tell me everything.
A woman who can survive Gabriella Colleoni, steal her fortune, and land the most dangerous bachelor in Italy? I have to know more."
She began steering Giana gently toward the grand salon where refreshments awaited.
Rodrigo watched them go, a complex mix of emotions warring within him: relief that Giana could handle the mercenaries' teasing and seemed instantly comfortable with the formidable Altun, a possessive twinge at seeing her guided away, and a deep satisfaction that Giana was being acknowledged by someone of Altun's stature.
Julian moved to stand beside him, his cool blue eyes following the two women. He took a slow sip from a crystal tumbler of whiskey that a silent attendant had provided.
"Remarkable woman, my Altun," he murmured, his voice full of smitten admiration. "She always knows precisely when to make a contact that is going to pay off."
Rodrigo remained silent, watching Altun laugh at something Giana said, the sound rich and warm.
"She sees a power player," Julian continued, his gaze fixed on Giana. "Someone whose star is ascending and is worth mentoring."
He finally turned to look directly at Rodrigo, his expression full of mischief. "You should be terrified, Colleoni. Altun Baruk taking an interest in your fiancée? That should worry you far more than Vincenzo Falcone and his clumsy thugs."
Rodrigo met Julian's gaze squarely. He was still smiling, but he knew too much of how the game was played, and suddenly the thought of Giana under Altun's powerful, enigmatic wing was daunting.
The sorceress always played a deeper, more complex game than simple territory or wealth. Her motivations were often inscrutable, her alliances fluid.
Yet, looking at Giana now, standing tall beside her, a spark of joy and intelligence in her eyes as she engaged with Altun and Frederica, Rodrigo felt no fear for her safety. Only a fierce, protective pride.
"The more allies Giana has, especially allies of Altun's caliber, the safer she becomes. That's all that matters," Rodrigo replied.
Julian studied him for a long moment, then he gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. He raised his glass slightly in a silent toast, an acknowledgment of a new player on the board.
Rodrigo's attention was already pulled back to Giana.
Altun was leaning in, speaking intently, a playful glint in her eyes.
Giana listened, rapt, then threw back her head and laughed again, the sound echoing in the grand hall, bright and fearless.
It was the sound of a woman stepping into her power. Of his queen claiming her court.
The performance for the spy in their cameras was underway, but watching Giana shine, Rodrigo knew the most dangerous ruse wasn't the one they were staging for their enemies.
It was the one he was playing on himself, pretending this fierce, luminous woman beside Altun Baruk could ever truly be part of an act.