Page 305 of Alessio

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Ginevra headed for the elevator, head down, but Chris’s voice behind her made her steps hesitate.

“I know things might seem bad right now,” he said, “but it’s always been complicated with them, Ginevra. They act like it’s always been just them, and in their private moments, I’m sure it was. But they made this mess together, and so now they have to clean it up, too. It just so happened that you were the one who got caught in the middle. Give them a chance to figure it out—you might have been exactly what the two of them were looking for without even knowing it, but they won’t know if no one tries.”

Her brow furrowed, and she looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t know what that means.”

Chris nodded. “I know, but you will. Try to have a good night.”

Right.

Once she was hidden by the closing elevator doors, Ginevra tipped her head down, and dragged in an aching breath. She didn’t want to cry—she wasn’t that girl. And besides, she had no business being heartbroken over a man who had never been hers to begin with and was clearly involved with someone else.

Simple as that.

It didn’t help.

She still wanted to cry.

Ginevra wiped away the one tear that escaped the corner of her eye as the elevator came to a stop on the highest floor. It opened to the hallway leading to the penthouse. She took another quick, deep breath; she had her weak moment in private, and now it was done.

Right?

Yep.

She decided.

Soon—surely—she would be back home in New York with her sisters. Back where she belonged, and far away from a complicated man, and whatever mess he had dragged her into here. That’s what would happen.

Ginevra unlocked the penthouse and opened the door to the dark entry. She couldn’t remember if Corrado had turned off the lights when they left, or not. Probably, though. Kicking off the heels and pulling down the wet straps of the dress around her arms, she tried to remember where the light switch was for the damn entry.

Then, the lights came on.

All at once.

She spun around fast, letting go of the straps of her dress as she froze in place at the sight of a stranger leaning against the wall at the very end of the hallway. A man, actually. His shaggy, dark hair hung over his eyes, and yet even through the dark strands, she could still see the stormy blue eyeing her from the side.

His lips, the lower fuller than the top, stayed affixed in a grim line as he chewed on something in his mouth—gum, maybe? Her gaze traveled over the golden hoops in his nose, his steel cut jaw line, and the few days’ worth of facial hair covering his cheeks and throat. Even under the leather jacket he wore, and the black jeans that molded to his thighs and ass, she could plainly see he was fit by the way the material of his white T-shirt stretched across the bands of muscle that made up his chest.

He leaned against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his black, scuffed combat boots hooked one over the other, despite the fact she could clearly see the tension wrapping his body. Like he was forcing himself to stay right there, and not come any closer.

My God.

He was devastating.

That was the first and only word to come to her mind.

Devastating.

A lot like Corrado, really. That first look at him had made her silent, and took away her breath, too. This was no different.

Except she didn’t know this man, and why in the hell was he here?

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice faint.

The man smiled.