Chapter 9
Gio
FUCK! I slam my fist down on the marble slab. What the fuck is wrong with me? Last night I made a series of terrible judgments. I’m old enough to know I can’t play a game like that and have everything turn out okay.
I lied to her.
I took her to bed.
I let her go.
I’m not sure which of those things was the worst decision. Together they make one giant clusterfuck of judgement calls. I can’t take back the lies. I will never regret fucking her. All I can do is go after her and make this right—if it isn’t too late.
Grabbing my keys, I look up her address in the file and plug it into the GPS. As I drive, every moment of last night flashes through my memory. Each frantic kiss, quiet tenderness, and soul deep contentment.
Followed by how I was a complete dick to her this morning. Why? Because I got cold feet. I figured if I pushed her away, if I told her my name, then she’d make it easy for me by running away on her own.
I wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of all my lies.
Or face my guilt.
Surprise, surprise, I’m dealing with both of those things and more. I royally fucked this up. Messed up this beautiful, addictive, amazing thing between us.
What was I thinking? Connection like this comes once, maybe twice in a lifetime. It’s not something you toss away.
I park right in front of a fire hydrant and climb the stairs of her unsecured apartment building. My heart lurches when I find her door ajar. Only to realize that she’s in such a hurry to run that she didn’t bother to close it behind her.
I spy her through the crack. She’s in a heap on the floor, crying. I loathe myself even more. Her worthless father’s passed out, probably drunk, and in no shape to flee.
Gently, I push the door open. Carissa’s wide, teary gaze finds mine and another sob spills from her rosebud lips. Defeat sags her shoulders. She doesn’t even attempt to get away. She’s given in. It’s over for her.
I’m a complete piece of shit.
“Please don’t kill us,” she begs on her knees. “We’ll pay you the money. We just need more time.”
Fuck the money. I’m such an asshole.
Her gaze fills with more tears. “Please don’t.”
“I’m not here to kill you. Either of you,” I add.
She searches my features, a crease between her brows. She tenses with a sudden dread. “T-then what do you want? Do you want me to work off our debt? Or are you going to s-s-sell me?”
“What? Of course not.” I’m appalled she’d consider either of those two things as viable options. As things I’d consider ever doing to her. She must think I’m a monster.
Turning around, I close the front door and lock it. Though the lock’s broken. This place isn’t safe. I need to get her out of here.
“Come with me,” I softly command, as I face her again. “We need to talk.”
Carissa bites down on her trembling lip, uncertainty and fear swim in her green eyes. She stands up. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Whatever you have to say, you can say it right here.”
I pause, unused to people refusing my orders. One glance at her snoring father tells me he won’t be waking anytime soon. The only two reasons I’ll let him live is because Carissa cares for him and he’s never raised a hand to her. Though his addictions and debts have taken their toll.
“All right,” I concede. I close the small distance between us, noting her wariness and hating myself for it. Standing before her, I drop to my knees.
Her eyes grow round. “W-what are you doing?”
“Begging for forgiveness.” I gaze up at her and let all of my walls fall away. I bare my soul to her in hopes she’ll see me—the real me. The one who was with her last night.
She chews her lip. “I don’t understand. You told me to run.”
“I was a fool.” My tone comes out harsher than I intended and she flinches. “I’m sorry.” I grasp her hands and she lets me. “My name is Giovanni—”
“Casella. I know who you are.” She sounds hurt. Rightfully so.
“Yes you do, tesoro mio. You know me better than anyone else.”
She frowns in confusion.
“Besides my name, I didn’t lie to you about anything,” I explain.
“Yes, I originally intended to deceive you and to use you against your father. But that plan fell apart as soon as your martini arrived. The man you dated last night, who you slept with, that was me. All me. This morning, I was not myself. I was an idiot and an asshole.”
She blinks away her tears. “But you promised to protect me last night—from yourself, as it turns out.”
“And I have every intention of keeping that promise. I will never harm you or your father. I swear on my late wife’s grave.” I smooth my thumbs over the back of her hands. “Please give me a chance to earn your forgiveness. To make this right between us.”
“Why?” Her question hangs between us like a stick of lit dynamite.
“Because I like you, Carissa. You make me feel alive in a way I haven’t in years. You’re a breath of fresh air, a salve, you calm my restless soul.”
Her lips part, but I can’t get a read on her. Does she think I’m delusional? Or will she accept my apology?
“I never should have pushed you away,” I continue. “And certainly never should have lied to you like that. But I was afraid as soon as I came clean about who I am, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me and this, whatever this is, would be over. I beg your forgiveness. Please.”
Silence stretches between us, only broken up by her father’s drunken snores.
“I… I don’t know,” she finally mutters, breaking my damn heart. “My father owes you a lot of money.”
“His debt is forgiven. It’s only fifty grand, and no amount of money is worth losing you over. You’re priceless, tesoro.”
“Really? Because you made me feel like trash. Like something disposable. And so, so stupid.” Her bottom lip wobbles and I want to murder myself for hurting her like that.
“You’re none of those things. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, and I promise to never do anything like that again. Ever.” I kiss her knuckles.
She pulls her hands away and I feel my hope going with them.
“I’m sorry.” Her features pinch with pain. “I need time to think.”
Fighting against my very nature, I back off and give her all the time she needs. She never said no, or that we’re over, so I take it upon myself to move forward with my plans.
First step: Getting new locks on her apartment door. The locksmith was there and gone before she returned from work the next day.
While I’m giving her space, I also decided to put her father in a rehabilitation facility. The best of the best, no expense spared, and I had a courier deliver to her all the paperwork and information, since she doesn’t want to see me right now.
She called it overstepping. Even though she’s grateful her father’s getting the help he needs.
I call it progress. I swore to protect both her and her father, even from themselves if necessary. I always keep my word.