I don’t know where this is going. We haven’t even talked about any of this. All I know for sure is that my attraction is stronger than my judgment, and wherever he takes this, I’m coming with him.
His hands travel up my back and around to my breasts. He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first man to fondle them, and I had no idea how good it could feel. Now, as the moist spot in my panties grows, I long for him to press his lips against them.
Consumed by a haze of endorphins, I hardly hear the male voice that’s calling out, “Don Gallucci. Sir, I need you to come now. We have company.”
Giovanni hears him and releases me from his embrace. I almost moan in disappointment.
“I need you to stay out here, Princess. Do not come inside. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand. Why? Is something wrong?”
“There could be. I’m not sure. Just do as you’re told.” He turns on his heels and leaves me alone to contemplate both my arousal, confusion, and now, fear.
Staring out at the gardens, I hear the sound of raised male voices coming from inside the house. I turn and scan the windows, spotting Giovanni, Vito, and two other men standing in the living room. They’re arguing about something in Italian, and I can see the rage in Giovanni’s expression. If he ever looked at me that way, I think I would just fall over and die.
As traditional and kind as he is, this is my second glimpse of his other, more terrifying side. I don’t know what possesses me, but I can’t just stand here helplessly wondering what’s going on in there, so I slip through the French doors and sneak across the kitchen. I tuck myself into the corner next to the entry to the room where Giovanni and the men are arguing.
Incapable of understanding a word, I lean forward for a better view, hoping their body language might give me a clue as to why these men showed up in the middle of the night to orchestrate this altercation and, more importantly, why Giovanni hasn’t just thrown them out. As I move, my shoulder brushes against the pot rack, and the pots clank and bang out a blood-curdling chorus. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
One of the outsiders shouts something that I’m certain is directed at me, but I’m frozen in place, wondering if I should just run in the other direction and never look back. Giovanni replies to the screaming man and calls out to me, “Gabrielle, come out here!”
Arms crossed against my chest, I take two steps forward and peek around the corner. Giovanni looks at me like an angry father about to scold a disrespectful child, and I want to melt into the floor. He gestures in my direction and says, “Vedi, e solo una ragazza!” which he tells me later means, “See, it’s just a girl.” The man thought that one of Giovanni’s men was sneaking up behind them.
“Now, go to your room. I’ll be up to speak to you about this soon,” Giovanni tells me, and I slink away in a state of morbid humiliation.
5
DEALING WITH GABBY
GIOVANNI
As a businessman, I’m currently on the cusp of forming the most lucrative and deadly monopoly this country has ever known, but I have one adversary standing in my way.
In my business, we don’t go to human resources to work out our personal differences. In my business, when compromise is no longer possible, people simply disappear. I don’t want Gabby to be exposed to the dangers that come with the seedy side of my day-to-day life, and she has just stepped into it without hesitation.
Maybe allowing her to come here now wasn’t the best call, but now that I’ve seen her, there’s no going back. I can’t bring myself to even consider the idea of sending her away. That leaves just one option on the table. I need to teach her to obey me. I’m not being an overbearing prick here. I’m a man who wants to ensure that her safety isn’t compromised while I solidify my empire.
I march up the stairs and across the balcony to the north wing of the compound. With each step, I become more intent on disciplining her. Why did I stick her all the way over here, anyway? Oh, that’s right. Because I didn’t know I was going to want to spend every waking moment with her.
Her door is slightly ajar when I arrive, and I push it open the rest of the way. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap and her head down.
“Why is this door open? You know anyone could have walked in on you, don’t you?”
“I left it open because I knew you were coming. I’ve been waiting for you,” she says, biting her bottom lip and lowering her eyes to the floor.
“Get up,” I say as sternly as I can.
“What?” She looks wounded by my tone.
“I said, get up.”
She rises to her feet, and I look her over. She’s changed out of her dinner attire and is wearing a pair of satin boxers and a spaghetti-strapped top. Her hard nipple poking through the sheer top catches my eye, and I try to imagine what they look like under there. I bet they’re the perfect shade of pink against her pale, white skin.
I reach out and snatch her arm, pulling her toward me. She gasps and her eyes grow wide.
“I told you to stay outside and wait for me, did I not?” I growl, staring down at her.
“Yes, but…” she stammers.