Claire
What the hell are you doing?!” Alex’s harsh whisper startled me so badly I nearly dropped the ring. I hadn’t even realized he was that close.
I’d been too caught up in this insane, reckless moment that was sure to blow up in my face!
My heart pounded like a jackhammer against my ribs—and I hated that he was right, because what the hell was I doing?!
“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Giancarlo,” Alex said, turning to the stranger in a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. His forced smile faltered. “She doesn't know what she's saying, she’s upset and—”
The heat of embarrassment crawled up my neck, burning my ears at his belittling choice of words.
But the man—Giancarlo—had already interrupted, silencing Alex with the single commanding lift of his hand, before I could say anything. “Let her speak,” he'd said, his piercing grey-blue eyes then shifting to me and holding me captive as he waited for me to speak?
“Well?” The question sliced through my haze and for a moment, I forgot why I was here.
His magnetic aura was stealing the air from my lungs.
But he was waiting.
‘Say something, Claire. Anything!’ I blinked rapidly, my mind scrambling for purchase as coherent thought abandoned me. “Um.. I– I’m proposing to you?” I blurted—the words sounding unsure as they stumbled out of my mouth before I could really stop them.
Giancarlo tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “I can see that," he said dryly, his sharp gaze sweeping over me with a flicker of amusement in those ocean eyes.
“Oh,” I said dumbly, wishing for the ground to swallow me whole.
‘Why had I said it like that?’
Heat flooded my face as every instinct screamed at me to flee, but it was too late for that now. So wallowing hard, I squared my shoulders and owned the moment.
“I’m proposing to you,” I repeated, steadier this time. “Right here. Right now. All you have to say is ‘I do.’”
I waited for him to laugh, or reject me outrightly. Anything was better than the intense way he regarded me—as if I were a puzzle he was intent on solving.
His gaze shifted briefly to Alex, then settled on the ring burning a hole in my hand. And in that moment, I knew…
‘He was going to reject me.’
My stomach twisted violently. Why had I thought this was a good idea? My palms grew clammy around the ring, my mind screaming at me to retreat, to salvage what little dignity I had left.
‘What kind of person pulls a stunt like this?’ My own voice taunted me mercilessly. ‘This is it, Claire. Game over.’
But instead of the anticipated rejection, Giancarlo reached out—his hand brushing mine, sending a jolt up my arm as he plucked the ring from my fingers. The motion was fluid, deliberate, like he’d done it before—and then…
“I do,” he said simply, his voice steady as he slid the ring onto his finger with mad confidence.
My breath hitched.
“W- what?” I stuttered, dumbfounded. Even though this was my own idea.
“It's what you wanted, no?” A slow smile spread across his lips, not quite reaching his eyes. Something predatory flickered there, sending a shiver down my spine even as the crowd murmured around us in a low buzz of gasps and whispers.
My knees wobbled. Had he just… said yes?
“Claire—” Alex’s voice cut through the noise, his tone thick with frustration.
Giancarlo’s attention turned to him, his posture deceptively relaxed. But the air shifted, heavy with unspoken threat. “I trust you’ll offer your congratulations as well, Alex,” Giancarlo said, his voice mild but leaving no room for argument. “Or is there a problem?”
Alex’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening. “No—no problem, sir,” he stammered, barely masking his anger.
A strange satisfaction bubbled up in me as I watched Alex shrink under Giancarlo’s gaze. It was petty, but seeing him so thoroughly put in his place felt… good.
Wait.
My chest tightened. Why was Alex addressing him like that?
And then it hit me.
Giancarlo…
Giancarlo Fiore Caruso?!
The name slammed into me like a freight train, stealing the remaining air from my lungs. My heart plummeted as the realization sank in.
I’d just proposed to the Giancarlo Fiore Caruso—an enigmatic, untouchable CEO whose name was synonymous with power and danger. A man whose very presence made grown men tread lightly.
And I had put him on the spot, in public, like a complete lunatic!
My vision swam, the world tilting dangerously on its axis. I was going to faint.
But before I could hit the ground, Giancarlo caught me with a firm, steadying touch that only amplified my mortification.
“Congratulations are in order, then,” Alex’s voice cut through my nausea, tight with frustration and barely concealed anger.
“Good,” Giancarlo said, his tone resolute. Dismissive. His gaze lingered on me as he extended his arm once more, calm yet commanding. “Shall we?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded.
Shall we do what?
I was steady now, but the weight of his words—and his expectation—made my knees threaten to buckle all over again.
Somehow, my ridiculous plan had spiraled out of control, and Giancarlo Fiore Caruso—the man who could crush me with a single word—was now my… fiancé?
I was in so much trouble.
After the crowd dispersed, I was left alone with nothing but Giancarlo and my rising humiliation.
“Look,” I started, voice shaky. “About that… I didn’t mean—”
“Didn’t mean to propose to me?” His interruption was light, teasing even, but his gaze still pinned me in place.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “Yes, exactly. It was—”
“An impulsive decision?” he tilted his head slightly, regarding me closely. “Perhaps.”
I blinked at him, thrown by his reaction. “You’re not… mad?”
“Why would I be?” he asked, his amusement fully evident now. “You’ve certainly made my evening more entertaining. Besides,” his eyes gleamed with something unreadable, “I find impulsive people fascinating.”
Before I could respond, Alex seized the moment to interrupt.
“Claire, we need to talk,” he barked, his face twisted with fury. Giancarlo’s expression darkened immediately, his eyes turning cold. But Alex, oblivious to the shift, pressed on. “You should apologize, and we’ll be on our way—”
“That’s enough!” Giancarlo’s voice sliced through the tension, firm and authoritative and Alex visibly bristled.
“With all due respect, Mr. Giancarlo—”
“With all due respect,” Giancarlo cut in, his eyes narrowing and his tone dangerously controlled, “your unprofessional behavior in my organisation is a conversation for another day, don't you agree?” Colour drained from Alex’s face at that.
“What? You thought I didn’t know?” Giancarlo continued, his voice now laced with an edge of disdain. “I know these things, Alex, but I graciously chose to overlook them—unless, of course, you’d like to discuss it in my office? In which case, you’re more than welcome to—”
“No, that won’t be necessary, sir,” he muttered, his defeat palpable.
“My thoughts exactly.” Giancarlo nodded sharply, his gaze never leaving Alex. “And you can be rest assured that Claire is in much better hands,” he added, the jab unmistakable. Then turning to me, his expression softened, though only marginally.
“Now. What do you say we head to dinner? We can talk more about this… engagement of ours.”
