Page 74 of The Don's Eternal Vows

I expected to feel devastated and shattered. Instead, an eerie calm washes over me. My mind races, piecing together the implications of his confession. I wasn’t crazy this whole time. We both could sense the truth, but we kept it hidden from ourselves and one another for as long as we could to simply pretend that life was perfect again.

"Is this because... because you brought me back?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gianni nods, his usual stoic facade crumbling. "I never imagined... I didn't know..."

I take a step forward, legs surprisingly steady. "No one ever could," I say, more to myself than to him. "There's always a price for cheating death."

As the full weight of my situation settles in, I find myself oddly detached. Perhaps this numbness is another side effect of my resurrection, or maybe it's just my mind's way of coping with the impossible.

I meet Gianni's gaze, seeing the torment etched in every line of his face. "Well," I say, a hint of humor creeping into my voice, "at least I won't have to worry about what to wear to your next gala."

The joke falls flat, hanging in the air between us. Gianni's eyes darken, his jaw clenching.

"This isn't funny, Genoveva," he growls. "What if... what if I die before you? What then?"

The question hits me like a sucker punch. I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I... I don't know," I admit, my voice small.

Gianni paces, his movements sharp and agitated. "You'd be alone. Truly alone. No one to see you, to help you. Christ, you wouldn't even be able to buy food. Your death would be excruciating. That is,” his face pales as he looks up in fear. “If you’re capable of death.”

My mind reels, imagining a never-ending life without Gianni, a world where I exist for no one but myself. Hell, it sounds like a better proposition. "Maybe I'd just... fade away," I suggest, to comfort us both.

He whirls on me, eyes blazing. "No. I won't take a risk for us to continue living like this, hoping for the best outcome. I'll go back to Hades myself if I have to. I'll make this right and demand certainty in terms of what happens next."

Gianni crosses the room in two long strides. He pulls me into his arms, his grip almost painful in its intensity. His lips crash against mine, desperate and demanding. I taste salt—his tears or mine, I'm not sure.

"I'll fix this," he murmurs against my mouth. "I swear it, Genoveva. Even if I have to tear the underworld apart."

I want to believe him. God, how I want to. But as I cling to him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine, a part of me wonders if there are some things even Gianni Montagna can't control. I wonder if Iwanthim to be able to.

Would it be so bad for me to go back to where I came from? To put an end to this wretched uncertainty?

The thought, dark and depraved after all Gianni has done for me, courses through me like a slithering snake. Guilt follows in its wake. To push it away, I instead focus on him and how he makes me feel.

His kiss deepens, and a fire ignites within me. I respond with equal fervor, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I press myself against him. The world narrows to just this—his lips, his hands, the heat of his skin through his shirt.

"Gianni," I breathe, my voice husky with need.

He growls low in his throat, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. His hands slide down my sides, tracing the curve of my waist before cupping my ass. In one fluid motion, he lifts me off my feet.

I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, gasping when I feel his delicious bulge between my legs. He carries me, slammingme eventually against the wall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, but I barely notice.

Gianni's mouth leaves mine, trailing hot kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I tilt my head back, giving him better access. "God, I need you," I pant.

His response is to grip my ass tighter, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. I don't care. I want him to mark me, to prove that I'm real, that I exist.

His mouth reaches for the button of my blouse. He rips it off, and I clench my legs around him tighter, my body balancing between him and the wall, and he frees one hand from beneath my ass, ripping off the rest of my shirt. The cold air hits me in welcome sensation, and by the time his hand cups my ass again, my shirt is off.

When I look up, he’s staring into my eyes.

"Tell me you're mine," Gianni demands, his voice rough with desire.

I meet his gaze, seeing the desperation and love swirling in those dark depths. "Always," I whisper. "I'm yours, Gianni. Forever."

He growls in approval and his head ducks low, grazing over my breasts. I mewl, clutching at his neck as he teases and nibs at my nipple over my bra.

He stops, his eyes flashing with fierce possessiveness. In one swift motion, he carries me towards his desk. He slams my back on its surface, letting the papers, pens and paperweight fall to the floor. The world loses focus and turns into a blur of colors.

My breath catches as he comes back above me, pinning me beneath his solid weight.

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