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Chapter Eleven – Giselle
There were a few things I didn’t trust the packers with, such as some of my darker clothes, my gloves, my new ivory gun, and that get well card from Atlas. Everything else? I let them do. I let them pack up what belongings I had in the room that had never really been mine, and I said not a word most of the day. My father stuck around to oversee the move—at least at the house—but once we left to go to the suite the Moretti men were staying at, he washed his hands of me.
His last words to me, before I left that house, were: “Be good to your husband. He’s the only one who matters to you now.”
I hadn’t said a single word to him, mostly because if I did, it would’ve been a big fuck you. Fuck him, fuck his pregnant fiancé, fuck that little baby growing in her belly. He thought he could just cast me away, discard me and get rid of me by giving me to the son of the man he’d sold me out to three years ago, but he was wrong.
He was so wrong, and he didn’t even know it.
Zander was with me, at least for most of it. He was told to watch over the movers, so he followed us downtown and did just that. Rocco thankfully wasn’t there to greet us, but Luca was, and I could tell from the very first moment he set eyes on me, he wanted to talk to me, but I said nothing, storming right past him, the first load of the movers directly behind me.
Luca directed them to the room that was his—because, apparently, we’d have to share a bedroom now that we were officially husband and wife—and I watched in the open concept kitchen with my arms folded. My special box of things sat behind me on the countertop, and Zander moved to stand beside me, not saying a single word.
That was, until he whispered, “I can’t stay here with you. As much as I want to, I can’t.”
“I understand.” What else could I say? If I asked him to leave my father’s service, we might lose our chance of finding some dirt on him. We still had the bugs in his office, but at this point, every little bit helped.
He took a step closer to me, his voice a bare whisper, “I’m sorry.” It’s something he had reiterated to me over and over again, ever since we came home and my father told me the truth, that I was already married in a legal sense, minus an actual wedding.
You know, the part that was supposed to be fun.
“It’s not your fault,” I said, glaring at the movers as they walked through the suite and headed to the door to get another load. I didn’t have much. With the two guys working, I think they could do it all in two more trips, maybe.
Luca was seconds behind them, and he saw Zander and me standing in the kitchen. To my surprise, he held in any jealous remarks—for Zander did stand awfully close to me, closer than a man should to a married woman. He just stared at me with those dark eyes, a slight frown on his face, and said, “Can we talk? Please?”
I doubted he’d learned that word from his father. As much as I didn’t want to talk to him, I knew I would have to. After all, this was where I’d live from now on, and he was the one I’d be spending a lot of time with. Not Zander, not anymore.
So, in the end, I gave Zander a look, and he let out a harsh sigh, muttered something about going downstairs to make sure the movers didn’t fuck up my stuff, and left the suite. When the main door to the place slammed shut, Luca said, “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“There’s that word again,” I muttered. “Please. How often do you use it? Is it an everyday occurrence, or do you just use it when you’re trying to manipulate someone into doing what you want?”
“Manipulate? I’m not—Giselle, I didn’t do this. I had no idea about any of this.” He blinked, that frown deepening on his face. “Do you think I did this?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore.” I folded my arms over my chest. My left hand wore that fucking ring, and I wanted to yank it off my finger and shove it down either Luca’s throat or his father’s.
Luca set a hand on the counter beside me. “Look. I had no idea about the forged papers, okay? I didn’t sign anything. I knew you didn’t want to get married, and I thought, stupidly I thought I’d be able to convince my father to stop this whole thing.”
God. Even now, I wanted to believe him.
I didn’t know how long I stared at him. Seconds, a minute, maybe more. All I knew was, it was a while before I finally said, “You will be sleeping on the floor.”
“Of course.” He said it a bit too quickly, so I knew he was probably only saying that to get me to calm down. He was a man, a man who was clearly attracted to me—and I to him, but that was beside the point—so he wouldn’t hesitate to climb into that bed with me and get freaky if I gave him the go-ahead.
I wouldn’t, though. Not right now.
“I do not want to ever be alone with your father,” I said.
That he nodded eagerly to. “I’ll be with you every moment I can. I don’t want you alone with him either, Giselle.”
I was going to say more, but right then Zander and the movers came in with more boxes of stuff. My mouth stayed shut, and Luca got the hint. Zander was by my side the next moment, and I was caught between the two glaring guys, the meat in this sexy sandwich.
If only I didn’t have other shit to deal with, then I could really focus on these guys and the crazy way they made me feel. All of them.
When the movers were done, Zander had to go, but before he did, he told me he’d text me. The man would probably be blowing up my phone every day now; he was no longer my bodyguard, not that he’d ever been a mere bodyguard to me. He had to appear loyal to my father, even though he obviously wanted to drop Miguel and come stay with me.
And then it was just Luca and me.
He helped me unpack. He wasn’t using much of the closet in his room, so it pretty much became mine. As upset as I was about this whole thing, I was also glad I wasn’t alone. I know, I know. I couldn’t seem to pick an emotion and stick with it. It was like I’d shut down for three years, and now everything was flying at me all at once and I didn’t know how to process anything.
