Dominic
I had control. I always had control.
So why the fuck did I let myself touch her like that?
I watched her stutter, her face flushed, looking up at me like I had just set her world on fire. And I let it happen. I could've backed off. I could've slammed the door in her face and thrown her out of my office. I should've – because she was getting too close. Too damn close for comfort.
But I didn't.
Instead, I kissed her. And I didn't just kiss her – I fucking lost myself in her.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I should've been the cold, calculating bastard I always was. The one who planned every move, knew exactly how to manipulate a situation, how to bend people to my will. But with her? Gianna Moretti? I wasn't even sure if I was still in control of my own thoughts.
I never should've touched her, never should've allowed myself to feel that soft warmth beneath my hands, feel the way her lips trembled against mine, like she wasn't sure what was happening but couldn't quite stop it.
There was something in the way she looked at me that made the cold, empty parts of my chest want to crack open – something that shouldn't exist. Innocence. Fucking innocence.
Was this how she had cracked Salvatore?
She didn't know what she was playing with. She might've softened the Don. But she couldn't even begin to understand the kind of man I was. I would ruin her.
But somehow... somehow, I couldn't look away.
It was fucking maddening.
Gianna was... strange. Fun. Funny, even. Something in her awkward charm – it was like she didn't even know how fucking appealing she was. It was infuriating. I didn't want her to be interesting. I didn't want to give a shit about her stupid, innocent smile or the way her eyes glowed with confusion and frustration. Or the way her mind worked on lousy excuses.
But I did.
And that was the problem.
I leaned back in my chair, watching her retreat like a wounded animal, the air thick with unsaid words.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Gianna's soft footsteps, the hesitant sound of her retreating, echoed in the corners of my mind. I could still smell her – sweet and fiery, like sugar and something fucking untamed. Something that made no sense, and yet, there it was, impossible to ignore.
Her laugh, her flustered protests, the way she stood there, defiant yet fragile, all of it played in my mind like a goddamn symphony of chaos. What the hell is it about her?
I didn't need her. I didn't.
But the thing was... she made me feel something.
I stared at the empty doorway for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the space she had left. I should've been angry. Should've been fucking irritated with her intrusion, her naive little arguments about cookies and other meaningless shit. She didn't belong here.
And yet...
There was something about her, the way she challenged me without even realizing it, that had me... actually reconsidering.
The plan had always been to break her – to watch her purity shatter and transform into something more... useful. Something that belonged to me.
But now, the thought of it felt different.
The taste of her lips burnt in my mouth. I remembered her soft gasps that had drowned in her throat, and her beautiful eyes that didn't quite understand.
Maybe I didn't want to tear her down.
Maybe I wanted to hold her together, piece by delicate piece, until she couldn't see herself without me anymore.
I gripped the phone in my hand, my fingers tight, almost strangling it as I scrolled through my contacts. I could feel the tension in my body, the sharp edges of my thoughts cutting through the fog that still lingered from the kiss.
I pressed the phone to my ear and waited.
The line rang, the seconds stretching, giving me just enough time to make up my mind.
Don Moretti answered on the fourth ring.
"Dominic?" he said, his voice low, familiar.
I closed my eyes for a moment, took a breath, and spoke with the kind of cold precision I always used when making decisions.
"The marriage," I said, the words falling from my lips like a final judgment.
There was a moment of silence.
"You're in?"
"I'm in."
I felt a strange, hollow sensation settle in my chest, one that I refused to acknowledge. I wasn't sure what it meant, only that it was there. Something had shifted – she had shifted something.
"Good," Don Moretti's voice rasped. "We'll set it up. You're making the right decision, Dominic. We're in a marriage alliance now."
I didn't respond. I wasn't doing this for alliances. Not anymore.
I hung up the phone without a word, letting the decision settle in the air around me. The darkness in the room felt heavier now.
Gianna had made me take the damn step. She'd forced my hand, and I wasn't sure if I hated her or thanked her for it.
But one thing was clear: now that the deal was done, now that the threads had been pulled tight, I could feel the weight of what was to come.
I wasn't going to let her get away.