Page 23 of Claimed by my Stepbrother

“Respectfully, the only threat to Gabby’s safety here has been dealt with,” Giovanni asserts.

“Until next time, right?” my mother bites back.

“Mom, this was my fault. I was told not to leave the gates without an escort. Even though you told me that, I did it anyway. I’m the one to blame here, and I’ll never do that again.”

“It doesn’t matter. There won’t be another threat to her safety. I guarantee that,” Giovanni says as he tucks a strand of stray hair behind my ear.

“Why do you want to stay? This was just a vacation, and it didn’t sound like a very good one based on our last phone call. That’s why we’re here. We came to make sure he was doing the things he committed to do,” she snaps.

“You’re right, mom. This trip started out a little rocky, but I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with Giovanni. I want to be with him.”

“Listen, if my son says that there’s no more danger, I believe him. It’s clear that he cares for this girl. He wouldn’t deliberately put her in harm’s way,” his father adds.

“Let’s have dinner. We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other. What do you say we table this discussion for now and just try to get along for a bit?” Giovanni says it so nicely, but I can sense the anger that he’s choking down on my behalf. I haven’t known him long, but he’s made it clear that he doesn’t like his abilities or integrity to be questioned. Unfortunately, when it comes to pushing buttons, my mother is a pro.

I slip my hand in his, and he holds it tightly. I want him to know that I see what he’s doing and how much I appreciate him for it.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea. We’re all hungry and tired. I think we should eat and sleep and not say another word about this until we’ve all had time to clear our heads,” Giovanni’s father plays the diplomacy role quite well. I’ve seen him use this tactic on my mother before, and it always seems to work.

She reluctantly agrees, and we adjourn to the dining room where Giovanni’s cook has prepared an amazing meal representing several traditional dishes.

“This is lovely. Do you eat like this all the time?” my mother asks as Giovanni pours her a glass of wine.

“No. I asked Mariah to make something special when you arrived. I wanted you to enjoy your first night here.”

“Thankfully, we’re all here to eat it. Things could have been so much worse,” she replies, pushing the knife just a little deeper.

Giovanni sits down beside me and takes a deep breath. He folds his hands in his lap and says, “What happened today was terrible and the thought of Gabby being in any sort of danger upsets me just as much as it upsets you. The thing you need to understand is that we’re all here together because I wouldn’t have it any other way. No one harms or threatens the people I hold close to my heart. She’s home safe because there was no other option. I don’t lose. I wish she didn’t have to endure what happened to her, but I would not—will not—ever let anyone harm her.”

“That’s a fine thing to say but….”

“No, you need to listen to me. I said, no harm will ever come to her as long as she’s with me. Nothing like this is ever going to happen again. Now, we agreed that we were going to table this discussion until tomorrow, but you find it necessary to make these underhanded, passive-aggressive comments, so I’m going to have the last word on this. She wants to stay and she’s staying. We will not discuss this any further.”

My mother opens her mouth to speak, but her husband holds his hand up and adds, “She’s an adult. She wants to stay and he wants her to stay. End of discussion.”

We continue our meal without another word from my mother. While I’m amazed that anyone can stop her when she gets on a roll like this, I’m very thankful for the peace and quiet.

* * *

Morning comesand I wake up in Giovanni’s arms. Still a little apprehensive about being alone, I nearly squealed when he suggested that I spend the night in his room with him. He strokes my shoulder and asks, “How did you sleep?”

“So much better than I would have if you weren’t here with me.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Princess. Now, how about breakfast?”

“Okay,” I answer, “but I don’t have any clean clothes in here.”

“You can wear my robe,” he says and pulls the white, fluffy robe off the hook on the bathroom door. “Vito called me earlier and said that my father asked him to drive him to the airport today. I guess your mother gave up on taking you back, but she doesn’t want to stay here, either.”

“I can’t believe her. Why does she have to be like this?”

“To be fair, her daughter was kidnapped yesterday. If she wasn’t a little emotional, I’d be more concerned.”

“I don’t want them to leave like this. I want her to see you the way that I do. I want her to know what a wonderful, amazing man you are.”

“So, you want them to stay?” he asks me.

“As horrible as she can be sometimes, I just don’t want her to leave angry.”

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