17

A blinding ray of sunlight pierced through the heavy curtains, hitting Rosa’s face like a physical blow. She groaned, instantly squeezing her eyes shut as a sharp, agonizing headache throbbed behind her temples.

*Why the hell is the sun so bright early in the morning? she thought to herself, her voice a raspy whisper against the pillows.

Squinting through the glare, she fumbled around the nightstand until her fingers wrapped around her phone. When the screen lit up, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. It wasn't early morning at all—it was past one o'clock in the afternoon. Rosa stared at the digital clock in sheer disbelief, wondering how on earth she had managed to sleep away half the day.

As she lifted the device, she noticed a piece of paper slipped underneath it. Sliding it out, she read the bold, sharp handwriting scribbled across the front: Call me when you wake up.

A small, nervous knot formed in her stomach. She was absolutely certain it was from Gio. He must have dropped the note by her bedside before he stepped out for his business early this morning.

Opening her eyes wider, Rosa finally forced herself to sit up, leaning back against the plush pillows as she took in the state of the room—and the state of herself. Her jaw dropped. Looking down, she realized she was completely naked. The burgundy sundress she had worn the previous day was nowhere to be seen, and her matching undergarments were completely gone, too. A flush of heat that had nothing to do with her hangover rushed to her cheeks.

Fortunately, someone had left a set of casual, comfortable clothes at the foot of the bed for her to change into. Shaking off the sudden chill, she quickly slid into the clean outfit and called out for the head maid.

"Selena?"

Within moments, Selena entered the bedroom, her expression professional but carrying a subtle, knowing warmth.

"Good afternoon, signorina," Selena said softly. "Is there anything specific you would like to eat? The chef can prepare whatever you ask for."

Before Rosa could even answer, Selena stepped forward and placed a small tray on the nightstand, bearing a glass of water and a specific hangover remedy. "Take this first. Giovanni explicitly told me to prepare this for you the moment you woke up."

"Thank you," Rosa mumbled, taking the remedy. As the liquid cleared her throat, the realization hit her like a freight train. Oh, god. I was completely drunk yesterday.

A wave of absolute panic washed over her. She gripped the edge of the blanket, her mind racing as she tried to piece together the missing hours. Did she do something humiliating? Did she make a complete fool of herself in front of the him?

"I would literally die from embarrassment if I did something I wasn't meant to do yesterday," she muttered under her breath, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin.

She closed her eyes, trying with everything in her power to force the memories to return. But nothing was coming to her head. The harder she tried to remember the events after hiding in the study, the more violent her headache became. Frustrated and terrified of what she might uncover, she finally stopped forcing it.

As she walked out of the bedroom and headed down the corridor, Rosa couldn't help but notice the maids whispering in the hallway. Their heavy, wondering gazes followed her every move, their eyes practically screaming with curiosity. They looked at her as if they were trying to solve a puzzle, wondering exactly where and how Giovanni had found her the night before.

Rosa slowed her steps, keeping entirely quiet as she tried to ignore them, but then a hushed, murmured voice floated from the end of the hall.

"...probably she is just like Isabella," one of the maids muttered to another, thinking Rosa was out of earshot.

Rosa froze in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. She kept completely silent, her heart hammering against her ribs as the words echoed in her mind.

Isabella?

She had never heard that name before. A dark cloud of curiosity and sudden dread settled over her. Who on earth was Isabella? And why were the staff already comparing her to this mystery woman?

Before she could dwell on the toxic thought any longer, her phone began to vibrate violently in her hand. It was Giovanni. In the midst of her panic over Isabella, she had completely forgotten his note instructing her to call him. Seeing that she hadn't reached out, Vanni had become worried and decided to call her instead.

She swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear.

"Rosa," his deep, rumbling voice vibrated through the line, instantly sending a shiver down her spine. "I can't even concentrate at work right now. I can't wait to be back at the villa with you. Switch this to a video call."

Rosa swallowed hard, her chest tightening. With her messy hair, her splitting headache, and the sheer terror of what she might have done last night, looking at him face-to-face was the last thing she wanted. "No... I don't want to switch to video."

She couldn't hold it in anymore. Her curiosity about her own drunken behavior was eating her alive. "How... how are you feeling?" she asked tentatively, testing the waters.

"I'm perfectly fine," Giovanni replied, a distinct, dangerous amusement coloring his tone.

"What happened yesterday?" Rosa rushed out, her voice pitching higher as she tried to sound casual. "Did I... did I do anything?"

On the other end of the line, Giovanni leaned back in his leather office chair, a dark, wicked smirk pulling at his lips. He was deeply tempted to tell her everything—how she had begged for his lips, how her thighs had trembled as he held her throat, and how she had screamed his name as she completely fell apart in his hands before passing out cold.

But what was the point in giving it away so easily? It would be a hundred times better to watch her remember it herself. He wanted to sit back, completely relaxed, and laugh at how delightfully embarrassed she would be when the memories finally rushed back.

"Nothing much," Vanni said smoothly, completely burying the wild truth. "You just had a lot to drink."

Before she could sigh in relief, he added, "But I have a surprise for you later. You're going to love it."

Rosa’s brow furrowed, her mind temporarily distracted from the maids' gossip. "What is the surprise?"

Giovanni let out a low chuckle. "How is it going to be a surprise if I tell you, cara?"

The question about Isabella burned at the tip of her tongue. She was desperately tempted to ask him right then and there—to demand to know who this woman was and why the maids were whispering her name. But Rosa bit her lip, forcing the jealousy and suspicion down, and decided to keep quiet about it for now. She didn't want to rock the boat when she was already on shaky ground.

"Please," she softly pleaded instead, leaning against the wall. "Please just tell me what the surprise is."

Giovanni’s deep, booming laugh echoed through the line at her choice of words, the sound rich and dark.

"You sure said a lot of please yesterday," Vanni growled softly, the teasing edge in his voice sharp enough to cut. "Do you remember?"

"I'll see you later,Cara. I have to go."

After the phone call, Rosa spent the next few hours trying to shake off the lingering fuzziness in her head. She ate the meal the chef prepared, took her time getting dressed, and made sure she looked exceptionally good, styling her hair and picking out an outfit that made her feel confident despite the nervous fluttering in her chest.

Every few minutes, Vanni’s teasing words about the night before—and the maids' hushed whispers about the mysterious Isabella—echoed in her mind. But she brushed the anxiety aside, focusing on the "surprise" he had promised.

Suddenly, the loud, clear chime of the villa's doorbell rang through the quiet afternoon.

Rosa’s heart skipped a beat. A breathless excitement washed over her. She was absolutely certain that whatever Giovanni had planned for her—whatever trick or gift he had up his sleeve—was waiting right on the other side of that door.

She hurried down the grand staircase, her heels clicking softly against the marble. The anticipation was thick enough to taste as she reached the massive, ornate front doors. Taking a deep breath to steady her racing pulse, she reached out, turned the heavy brass handle, and pulled the door wide open.

"Oh my goodness!" She screamed.