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I couldn’t help but notice how much attention Giovanni was getting. Mainly from beautiful women who gave him flirtatious glances as he walked past, but also from men who stared at him in disbelief. It honestly felt like I was in the company of an A-list celebrity the way the locals were acting in his presence. Some people even had their phones out and were taking pictures. I lowered my head, allowing my hair to cover most of my face to hide myself from appearing in the background of their photos. Not only because I didn't want to be on their phones, but I had no idea where their pictures would end up. Social media? Magazines? I couldn’t risk Henry ever stumbling across something like that. I just couldn’t.
We stopped outside a quaint gelato shop and ordered our ice cream. The server seemed extremely nervous but also in awe of Giovanni. I couldn’t understand it. Yes okay, he is extremely good looking and filthy rich. Yes, he owns half of Verona, but what was with all the wide eyes and shaky hands? Even the second server, who was most likely his daughter, was frozen like a statue, ice cream scoop in hand, until her father nudged her into making our order. But as I looked up at Giovanni’s side profile, I was surprised to see no reaction from all this attention. It was as if he was blind to it all or just amazingly skilled at hiding how much it affected him. I would hate it, but then I am not this man next to me. I bet he loves every minute of it.
“You okay?” Giovanni suddenly turned to me and I blinked back at him in surprise. “I know it can be overwhelming. Don’t worry, they will all calm down soon.”
So, he is aware...yet he doesn’t seem to be entertaining it. Interesting. He handed me my salted caramel gelato and I thanked him, which made his lips pull up into a little smirk. “You’re welcome, although I can think of so many more fun ways you could thank me.”
I groaned and turned my back on him, walking away to a bench in the middle of the piazza with Sani. Why did he feel the need to always make everything dirty?
Once we all sat down, Giovanni towered over us from behind the bench and Marco and the others stood around us protectively. I felt ridiculous. This all seemed so unnecessary in the middle of this gorgeous little slice of Italian paradise. My eyes fell upon a huddle of people at one end of the piazza where there seemed to be some commotion going on. “What’s happening over there?” I asked, looking up at Giovanni. It was only then that I realised how closely he was standing to me and his tattooed hand was gripping the bench right next to my shoulder.
His face scrunched up in distaste. “Casa de Giulietta,” his Italian words rolled off his tongue like a seductive melody and I swallowed my instant arousal. “Otherwise known as the house of Juliet. The most overrated tourist attraction this city has to offer.”
My eyes flew back over to the crowd and I squealed. I couldn’t help it. I was a literature buff. And I had been begging Gigi to take me to see Juliet’s balcony since I arrived here but she was always busy working during the day and then I started this job, so I haven’t had a chance.
“Did you just squeal?” Giovanni raised one dark, well-groomed eyebrow at me and I spun round on the bench to look up at him.
“Can we go and see it? Please?” His face creased with amusement at my excitement, but I didn't care what he thought about me.
“I don’t want to! It’s so boring,” Sani grumbled with a mouthful of chocolate chip ice cream.
“It is romantic Sani! It is poetic and full of magic! Have you heard of Shakespeare?” I asked, practically bouncing on my seat.
“No. Is he a racing driver?” Sani quizzed innocently. Giovanni scoffed from behind me, but I ignored him.
“No. He is one of the greatest poets and playwrights who ever lived!”
“He sounds boring,” he said before taking an enormous lick of his ice cream. I rolled my eyes and looked back up at Giovanni’s face. He was trying to suppress his laughter but failing terribly.
“Well, I am going. Can you watch the kids for five minutes please?” I didn’t wait for him to respond and started to make my way towards the entrance of the attraction. I knew it wasn’t really Juliet’s house or had any real historical connection to Shakespeare’s most famous play, but it was still an experience that I would love.
“Olivia. Wait,” That unmistakable alluring voice called behind and I stopped to see Giovanni strolling towards me. I looked over his shoulder and saw the three men all watching over Soraya and Sani who were still happily sitting eating their ice creams. “You can’t walk off alone.”
My eyebrows furrowed and I burst out laughing. “I walk off alone all the time, remember? I am not part of your family and under your protection.”
Something flashed across his eyes but just as quickly it was gone and replaced with playfulness. “I didn’t take you as another one of those hopeless romantic types that fly halfway around the world to stare at a balcony that has no real significance to anything,” he brushed passed me and joined the back of the queue of people who were filing through an arched passageway.
Scowling at him, I replied, “I am not a hopeless romantic! I just like literature and Shakespeare happens to be one of my favourites. Forgive me for wanting a little culture.”
Leaning against the brick wall, he smirked. “Culture is seeing the opera at Arena Di Verona or learning about Mastiff I of the Scala family in Piazza dei Signori. Not this. If you want to experience the real beauty and romance of Verona, I would be more than happy to...assist you. You will be thoroughly satisfied, I promise.”
I huffed and folded my arms across my chest. He just can’t help himself, can he?
“You have your whole life to be an arrogant, sex-crazed playboy. Why don’t you take a day off?” It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I slammed my hand over my lips that seemed to have a mind of their own and stared at him wide-eyed. I can’t believe I just spoke to my boss like that. I was so fired!
But to my complete shock, I watched in confusion as his face turned from surprise to utter glee. The sound of his laugh moved through me like the first hypnotic note of a live jazz song, leading to even richer and sweeter notes. I couldn’t help but join in with a small giggle at his reaction, but I was still mortified.
Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed my wrist in his large hand. In one swift motion, he slammed me straight into his chest and wrapped his arms around me tightly so I couldn’t escape. My hands rested on his rock-hard pecs over his black top and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. His laughter had come to a natural end and his deep brown eyes bore into mine with so much intrigue.
“Who are you?” he whispered gruffly, but I just opened my mouth and closed it again like an idiot. I couldn’t think straight with him this close to me. With his arms around my body and the feel of his muscular frame up against mine. “I never let anyone talk to me the way you do. You really...really want to be punished by me, don’t you bambola?”
“I – I – “I couldn’t form my words. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to scream at him for his bold seduction, but there was also a devious part of me that knew they were true. Yes. I wanted to be punished by Giovanni Buccini.
Suddenly, the crowd moved and he released me from his embrace, allowing me to regain my senses. As I stumbled forwards through the arched alleyway towards the mediaeval courtyard, my eyes widened at all the names of lovers written on the stone walls. My mouth dropped open as I took in every little detail. Names were carved and a faded crest of the Cappello household was visible on the building, as well as the beautiful balcony that was the main attraction. Tourists were craning their necks to stare up at it but something else had caught my attention. A teenage girl, maybe no older than seventeen, was tucking a piece of paper in the crevice of a stone wall just below the balcony. It was only then that I realised hers was one of hundreds of little notes that carpeted the walls.
“What is she doing?” I asked quietly as I continued to stare. I could sense Giovanni standing right behind me. My body knew when he was near. All the small hairs on my neck stood up in anticipation and my heart was beating a little faster than normal. I felt his hot breath on my skin as he spoke.
“There is a myth that if you write the names of you and your lover on the wall you will be together forever. But really tourists have just vandalised a beautiful building, so now, people write love notes. Letters asking for Juliet’s advice on their love lives and stuff them into the cracks. It’s ridiculous,” I could hear the cynical tone of his voice and I rolled my eyes.
