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“I’ve never had anyone that I wanted to spoil before.” It’s true. I’ve paid for shopping and spa days out for girlfriends before, but I’ve never gone along, and I’ve certainly never enjoyed it the way I’m enjoying today. I love seeing her so happy, love seeing the pleasure on her face and the excitement in her eyes. As we trail through designer store after designer store, purchasing shoes and lightweight dresses and flowy pants and blouses for what Gianna has surely suspected by now is a warm-weather vacation, I find I don’t get bored of seeing her show me outfit after outfit, clearly utterly thrilled by all of it.
“You should have an engagement ring one of these days,” I tell her thoughtfully, as we pass the bags off to the driver before going to lunch. I run my thumb over her diamond and rose-gold wedding band, turning it around on her finger. “There wasn’t a lot of time to get you one. But I think—”
“There’s no rush.” Gianna turns to kiss me again, going up on her tiptoes. “We’re married, and we’re happy. I don’t need any more jewelry for that.”
“Well, one of these days, I might surprise you.” I take her hand, leading her down the sidewalk with security trailing us. “Now, I have a special lunch planned, and I don’t want to miss our reservation.”
I made plans for us at a sushi restaurant known for its omakase menu, and Gianna lets out a soft sound of pleasure when we walk into the cool, dark restaurant filled with the soothing sounds of trickling water and soft music. The hostess leads us to a booth towards the back of the restaurant, and Gianna slides in across from me, looking around with a small smile on her face.
“You really did go all out, didn’t you?” Her smile spreads as the waitress arrives with a bottle of white wine, one that I’d already asked for before we arrived. “You’re really trying to woo me, aren’t you, Alessio? You don’t have to, you know—we’re already married.”
“I never want to stop treating you this way,” I tell her firmly, pushing her glass of crisp white wine towards her. “Especially when you’re giving me so much, too.” I feel a trickle of that guilt again as I say it, that fear that I’m somehow talking her into all of this, influencing her into wanting it, as much as all the signs point to the opposite—that she really does want it. “This is—my wildest fantasy, Gianna. I’m not sure I believe that it’s real sometimes.”
She gives me a soft smile, reaching across the table to brush her fingers against the back of my hand as she takes a sip of her wine. “It’s real, Alessio. And it’s everything I wanted, too.”
The first course comes—coconut-crusted calamari in a sweet soy glaze—and it’s the perfect segue into what I wanted to tell her. “So.” I give her a mischievous smile, reaching for my own glass of wine. “Any guesses as to where we’re going for our honeymoon?”
Gianna considers, picking up a piece of the calamari with her chopsticks. “Somewhere sunny with a beach, obviously. Spain? Or the Amalfi Coast?”
“Good guesses, but no.” I grin at her. “Although I plan to take you all of the places that I possibly can, eventually—those included. We’re going to Greece.”
Gianna’s eyes go wide, and the instant excitement that I see on her face tells me immediately that I made the right choice. “Oh, I’ve seen pictures,” she murmurs excitedly, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s so beautiful. It’s going to be so wonderful!” Her hand finds mine again, squeezing lightly. “I can’t wait. A romantic vacation just the two of us—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
I watch her as she takes another sip of her wine, my heart feeling lighter than it has in some time. I’d thought for so long that this was the wrong thing to do—that marrying her, sleeping with her, even loving her would somehow cause me to lead her down a path that would make her unhappy, that she couldn’t possibly want me. That if she did, she wasn’t thinking clearly. But the past few days have shown me that I think I was so very wrong.
That the best way of protecting Gianna might have been as her husband all along.
She’s exclaiming over the next dish—a small ceramic bowl filled with tiny marinated scallops and caviar on top—when I see something shift outside the window that catches my eye. There’s a man standing across the street in a dark jacket, a beanie pulled low on his head despite the weather, and despite the fact that it could be anyone, something about it sets off an alarm in my head. I keep eating, carrying on half a conversation as I watch out of the corner of my eye as cars pass. One passes, and then another, and the man is still there—staring directly at our window.
Two more cars pass, and he’s still there, not moving a muscle. And then there’s a flurry of traffic, a light turning red as cars completely block my view—and when they’re moving again, the man is gone.
It could be nothing. But I’ve spent years working in the mafia, working for Giacomo first and then for Luca. I’m no enforcer, no assassin, but I’m trained to spot things others might not, to have my head on a swivel, to know when danger is close. And something about what I just saw feels wrong.
I motion for the waiter, hating the confused look that I see on Gianna’s face as I hand the man my credit card. I’d planned a romantic day out for us, and the meal has barely begun—but I can’t risk it.
“Alessio?” There’s a nervous quiver in her voice as Gianna sets down her chopsticks and looks at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I saw something outside.Someone. It could be nothing, but I don’t want you to be in even the slightest danger.” I take my card back, sign the bill, and stand up as I reach for her arm. “Let’s go.”
There’s a brief moment where I see disappointment flash across her face, and then she nods. “Okay,” she says softly, and I can see the flicker of fear in her eyes.
I motion to the security that had faded into the background. “Get added security at the house,” I murmur to one of the men as I guide Gianna to the door. “Make sure every door, every side, every possible way in has at least two, if not three, men on it at all times. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Of course, boss.” The man is already pulling out his phone, moving towards the door, as I walk with Gianna out to the SUV waiting at the curb.
“I’m sorry the day was interrupted.” I look worriedly at her as she sits there, her hands twisted in her lap, her face paler than I’ve seen it in days. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go—”
“It’s not your fault.” She swallows hard. “Do you think—you think it had something to do with who murdered—” Gianna’s voice quivers, and she can’t finish the sentence.
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “But if there’s even a chance, I needed to get you out of there.” I pause, considering as the car moves out into traffic, my gaze sweeping the sidewalks through the dark-tinted windows for any signs of that man, or anyone else like him. “I think we might need to move up the date of the honeymoon,” I murmur, feeling that sense of unease growing. “It might be a good idea to get you out of the country while my men are looking for who’s responsible for what happened to your father.”
“Far be it from me to argue with going on vacation sooner,” Gianna says lightly, but I can hear the tension in her voice, even as she tries to make light of it. I know she’s afraid, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep anything from happening to her—to keep her safe.
Including taking her across an ocean, if I need to.
* * *
“The house is well-guarded,” I promise her as she slides into bed next to me, wearing soft pajama pants and a camisole that I know aren’t meant to be sexy, but somehow make me want to slide my hands all over her all the same. Still, I feel sure that’s not what she needs right now, and instead, I turn to hold her, curling against her as she sinks back into the pillows. She kisses me softly, but there’s not the same heat in it that there usually is, and I gently run my hand over her back, trying to soothe her to sleep. I have my own worries and fears about all of this, but they’re nothing compared to hers—especially not when she was the one who found her father dead in his office. No matter how well-guarded I’ve managed to make the house, I have no doubt that she’ll fear that whoever was responsible might find their way past my security detail as well.
