CHAPTER 35: Giovanni's POV The sun was already high when I stepped out of Mirabella’s apartment. And I saw red. She asked for two weeks and what? She thought it was enough freedom to host that fucker at her place? I should have asked the security detail to report her every move to me, not just if she was in danger.The drive to the port took longer than usual. My mind was too loud. Mirabella’s face, her mouth, her voice, the quiet fire in her when she stood between me and that prick. I didn’t like the way he looked at her. By the time I pulled up at the warehouse off Dock 4, the men were already waiting. I ran a tight ship, and that meant no one breathed unless I said so.I walked in, flanked by Lorenzo and Carlos. Inside, the long metal table was already set with the layout of our distribution zones across the ports. Black crates were stacked along the walls, each marked with white chalk, sorted by origin: Naples, Casablanca, Bogotá. Legit goods up front. The rest, conc
CHAPTER 34: Mirabella's POV Sunlight crawled through the half-open curtains of my bedroom window, painting lines across the bare floorboards. I wasn’t used to it being this quiet in the mornings. No street noise. No ringing phone. Just the soft hum of the fridge and the man sleeping in my bed.Giovanni.His arm was draped across my waist, heavy and warm, anchoring me like he belonged there.And the worst part?Some part of me was starting to believe he did.I blinked against the light, my body aching in ways that told me last night hadn’t been a dream. The stretch of my thighs, the faint bruise on my hip, the taste of him still somewhere in the back of my throat.I should’ve kicked him out.Told him to leave the second he walked in like he owned the place.But I hadn’t.Instead, I let him kiss me like I was already his. Let him take me like I’d been waiting for him to. And now he was asleep in my bed like nothing about that was insane.I shifted carefully, inching out from
CHAPTER 33: Giovanni's POV I downed another glass of whiskey as I recalled my conversation with Mirabella. It was now very clear I could never leave her alone, not even if I tried. It became clear to me the moment I dropped everything to save her. And I didn’t do this shit, these emotions.I've seen made men die for showing less attention to a woman. She didn’t even understand a fraction of what I would do for her. I would burn the world just to have her.“Thank you, Giovanni.” She said immediately they left.“Why?” I asked.“For everything.” She replied, her voice growing quieter and quieter. I stared at her.“You look pale kitten, are you feeling any pa-,” I was about to say but she cut me off.“Please, let me speak,” she said. “I'm grateful you came for me and for every other thing you've done for me. But if you force me to marry you, I'll never forgive you.” She said, her resolve firm.I didn’t budge. I wanted to hear what she had to say. And deep down I knew that I
CHAPTER 32: Mirabella's POV I woke up to the scent of lavender and something warm, faintly sweet, waffles? My eyes fluttered open to find a pair of large hazel eyes staring down at me.I might’ve screamed if not for the tangle of red curls and the familiar face they framed.“Eliana?” I whispered, still half caught in the haze of sleep and disbelief.Her eyes widened, and before I could sit up, she vanished from my line of sight. A second later, the bed dipped under the weight of her tackle.“You bitch,” she choked, hugging me so tightly it hurt. “You had me worried sick.”I winced, not from the force of her hug, but from how raw my body still felt. The bruises, the fatigue, it hadn’t all left me yet.I froze, then slowly hugged her back. My shoulder grew damp. She was crying.“Eliana—”“Why the hell would you leave me that text and then disappear?” she snapped, voice shaking. “Do you know what that felt like? I thought you were dead. I thought Giovanni had taken you.”
CHAPTER 31: Giovanni's POV Mirabella didn’t flinch.She didn’t retreat, didn’t break eye contact. She just stood there, shoulders squared, lips parted, eyes locked on mine. That silence between us wasn’t passive. It was a dare. And it echoed louder than any scream.I’d expected fury. Sarcasm. Maybe a slap. She was all edge and defiance, a woman built to bite back.But she didn’t move.Didn’t run.Didn’t say a word.That stillness said everything.She heard me. And some part of her wasn’t trying to escape.I stepped forward, deliberate and slow, letting each pace pull the tension tighter between us. My palm settled on her waist. It was not rough, not soft, just firm. The warmth of her body thrummed against mine, pulsing with tension.“You don’t need to agree,” I said, my voice low. Measured. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m stating what's already been decided.”Her jaw tightened, her anger finally surfacing. “You think you can just claim me like some antique off an auction floor?”
CHAPTER 30: Mirabella's POV My eyes felt heavy. I gently pried my eyes open, the light was soft and warm like morning sunlight spilling across linen sheets, not like the harsh flickering bulb from that godforsaken room.I blinked slowly. My throat was dry, and every part of me ached. My limbs felt like bricks, my stomach hollow and cramping. But I was in a real bed. Clean. Soft. Covered in a thick comforter that smelled like sandalwood and soap.I wasn’t there anymore. I was safe.Then I felt it, his eyes on me.I turned my head, slowly, and there he was.Giovanni Moretti. My saviour. He had saved me twice now. From papa and now from Max.Sitting in a leather armchair beside the bed, forearms braced on his knees, head lowered like he hadn’t moved in hours. His suit jacket was off, sleeves rolled up. A faint bruise darkened his jaw. His knuckles were scraped.Must be from when he knocked that door down.And his eyes, when they met mine, they looked haunted.I opened my mou