Keeping Gabriella under my roof would solve multiple problems at once.
I could monitor her activities, prevent her from meeting with Blackwood again, and keep her safe from whatever threat is targeting the Monti family.
"Is your father aware of this crazy plan?" I ask.
"Not yet." Gabriella shrugs. "But I'm sure he'd be okay with it."
"You're sure?" I repeat, incredulous.
"Of course." Her smile is all innocence, but her eyes hold a challenge. "After all, he trusts you completely, Marco. With his business, his territory… his daughter. Of course, that’s only if he doesn’t know the truth about you and me."
The emphasis she places on those last words feels like a threat.
She could tell Antonio about last Christmas, about how I took his precious daughter in my library while he enjoyed holiday music downstairs.
I clench my jaw, imagining Antonio's face if he learned what happened.
While Gabriella might face his disappointment, I would confront something far worse.
I'd be seen as betraying Antonio's trust, disrespecting him in the most fundamental way.
"That's blackmail," I say quietly.
"I prefer to call it leverage. But I won't tell him. That's not my goal."
"Then what is your goal?" I demand, needing to understand what game she's playing.
"I told you. Protecting my father. His legacy. Our family business." She holds my gaze steadily. "The same things you claim to be doing."
I turn away, hoping it will break the urge to agree to this crazy idea.
Having Gabriella in my house would be torture.
Every morning, every night, knowing she's just down the hall.
Remembering how she felt in my arms.
Wanting what I can't—shouldn't—have.
But as much as I want her gone, I have to agree with Roman’s earlier assessment that Gabriella could be an asset in finding out who’s fucking with Antonio’s business.
"One week," I say finally, turning back to face her. "You stay here one week while we figure out a permanent solution."
Gabriella's smile is triumphant, and I already regret my decision.
"Since I’m just a little ole woman, you’ll have to negotiate this with my father, but I can pack and be here this evening."
"This isn't a victory, Gabriella," I warn her. "This is a temporary truce. Nothing more." God, I feel like I’m drawing and the arrangement hasn’t even started yet.
"Of course," she agrees. "Just two people working together for a common cause."
"There will be rules."
Her eyes widen slightly, more in amusement and intrigue than concern. "What rules?"
"You don't leave without security. You don't meet with anyone I haven't approved. And you stay the hell out of my office unless I'm in it."
Gabriella crosses her arms. "And in exchange?"