Chapter Three
Ella
My gut keeps churning, warning me.
Is it because I’ve never felt this kind of insane attraction to anyone before?
Watching Rhia and Lex, this is what I’ve been wanting.
But I know, with unsettling certainty, that if I say yes, I’m not just flirting with trouble. I’m walking blindfolded straight into it.
And that thought rattles me more than the car incident from earlier.
Meanwhile, Gualtiero remains calm and collected.
How can he be so unaffected? Are attempts on his life not unusual? The idea is deeply disturbing.
One thing is becoming clearer by the second: I should stay far, far away from this man.
My body is primed to flee, every instinct screaming at me to run.
Yet I stay exactly where I am, trapped by the electricity humming between us, pinned in place by something stronger than fear.
I shake my head, trying to snap out of it. Gathering my courage, I lift my eyes to meet his.
“I can’t have dinner with you.”
He doesn’t like that.
Gualtiero looks at me, unimpressed. It’s clear he doesn’t get turned down often, if ever.
I bet women jump at the chance to be with him. And I would too, if my sense of self-preservation hadn’t kicked in.
He parts his lips to respond, but my phone vibrates in my purse.
Crap. Rhia.
I forgot about her.
I rummage through my bag until I find my phone. Six missed calls.
I hit the call button and press it to my ear. Rhia answers on the first ring.
“Where the hell are you? I’ve been worried sick. There’s no sign of you anywhere, and you’re not answering my calls. You better have a damn good explanation,” she fires off without taking a break or a breath. “You know I have an overactive imagination and—”
“I’m sorry,” I cut in. “I’ll explain later.”
“You don’t sound like yourself. What’s going on, El? Where are you?” she asks, alarmed.
“I’m fine. I’m across the street at the little café. I’ll meet you outside.” I hang up before she can bombard me with more questions.
Gualtiero is still crouched in front of me, watching the entire exchange. His expression is unreadable, but something in his eyes has shifted. They’ve gone hard.
“I have to go,” I stammer. “It was nice meeting you, Gualtiero. I’m glad you’re okay.”
I try to rise, but he doesn’t move.
Umm…?
“Was that your boyfriend?” he asks calmly, though there’s an undercurrent to his voice I can’t quite place.
What?
I blink at him, confused. With a quick shake of my head, I press my hands against my thighs to keep them still.
“No. That was my friend Rhia. We’re traveling together. I can’t go to dinner with you because I don’t want to abandon her and her sister.”
It’s a flimsy excuse. Zoe is far more likely to ditch us, but it’s all I’ve got.
Why am I justifying myself to him anyway?
For a fleeting second, something like relief flickers across Gualtiero’s face before he reins it in and settles back into that unreadable expression.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was jealous. But that can’t be right.
I’m imagining things. It’s definitely time to leave before I embarrass myself even more.
He takes my hands in his, studying me. “Your hands are still shaking.”
Yes, that’s because you keep touching me.
“I don’t want you to leave yet. You’re still in shock.”
He rises to his feet and adds, in a tone that allows no argument, “Stay here. I’ll get your friend.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he’s already gone.
Dammit. I was going to use Rhia as my excuse to get out of here.
Now what?
I pace the room, my thoughts spiraling.
Who is this guy?
And why am I still here? I should just leave.
Someone tried to run Gualtiero over, and the more I replay it, the less it feels like an accident. Am I even safe anywhere near him?
As soon as Rhia gets here, I’ll grab her, say my goodbyes, and walk away.
So why does the thought of never seeing him again make my chest ache?
There’s something about him. The way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that exists. It’s consuming.
A tug-of-war rages inside me. My gut says run. My heart wants to stay.
Which do I trust?
They say to follow your heart. But aren’t we also told to listen to our instincts?
Ugh. This is impossible.
The door opens, and Rhia rushes in, Gualtiero close behind her.
His fiery gaze finds mine instantly and holds it, and once again, I’m completely enthralled. My insides tighten, and my nipples pebble into hard rocks beneath my shirt.
Oh, please don’t let him notice.
I’d die if he knew just how much he’s affecting me.
The temptation to let my eyes drift lower and check for signs of his earlier arousal is strong, but I resist and keep my stare locked on his.
The spell breaks when Rhia throws her arms around me in a fierce hug.
“Oh my god, Ella. Are you really okay? Gualtiero told me what happened.”
Wrapped in the comfort of her embrace, I take my first real breath. I can’t wait to fill her in.
How can twenty minutes feel like an entirely different lifetime?
“I’m fine,” I reassure her.
I gesture toward Gualtiero. “You should have your shoulder looked at.”
“It’s nothing. Just a bruise,” he replies, completely unbothered.
A moment of awkward silence follows. Gualtiero’s eyes remain fixed on me, and for the life of me, I can’t look away either.
Of course, Rhia notices and lifts an eyebrow.
Gualtiero finally speaks, addressing her directly.
“Signorina Rhia, I invited Ella to dinner and, of course, I’d like you and your sister to join us. I’ll invite my brother and a friend to even the numbers.”
Smooth.
Why is he so determined to take me out? Why not just say thank you and move on?
I should feel flattered by his attention, but honestly, I still want to run for the hills.
I have zero experience with men like him. My exes were sweet and harmless compared to the powerhouse that is Gualtiero De Marco.
I shoot Rhia a desperate please-say-no look.
Naturally, she ignores me.
With a devilish smile, she says, “We’d be delighted.”
Traitor.
Gualtiero nods, clearly satisfied.
“It’s settled then. I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant in Catania. You’ll love it. They have the best seafood in all of Sicily.”
It seems Rhia has taken over as my official spokesperson.
“Sounds perfect,” she answers brightly. “We’re looking forward to it.”
Is she serious? How can she agree to this without even checking with me?
“Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he adds, not even pretending to ask if that works. “Where are you staying?”
Rhia gives him the hotel name while I sit there, smiling on the outside and spiraling on the inside.
Holy hell. I’m going to see him again.
I’ve spent twenty minutes with this man, and I’m already unraveling.
How am I supposed to survive an entire evening?
I’m so screwed.