22

Rosa looked at him with a gaze of absolute disbelief, silently asking what do you mean? Because even though they were in a private sector of the VIP lounge, the space was still entirely open to the rest of the high-end crowd. It was not an enclosed area at all, and anyone glancing over could see them.

But Giovanni didn't care about the audience. He simply signaled again with a sharp, demanding tilt of his head that screamed she should come over right now.

She hesitated for a long moment, her heart hammering against her ribs. Finally, she let out a quiet sigh, got up from her seat, and walked slowly toward him. She stood right in front of him, but before she could say a word, Giovanni reached out, grabbed her waist, and pulled her down onto his lap.

He took the cigarette he had been smoking earlier, crushed it out in a nearby crystal ashtray, and turned his full, undivided attention to her.

"Are you nervous?" he asked, his voice a low, raspy murmur.

Rosa held his gaze, trying to maintain her composure. "No," she lied softly. "I'm not nervous."

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. Lifting his hand, he gently tucked a loose lock of her dark hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing against her warm skin. One of his hands rested lightly on her waist, while the other slid down, diving onto her thigh. As she sat completely flush against him, she froze—she could clearly feel his hardness beneath her.

Suddenly, Giovanni's hand moved up to firmly grab the back of her neck. His dark eyes were half-closed, intense and burning with a dangerous hunger. Shifting her position, he pulled her tightly against him, molding her frame so that his broad chest was meeting her back.

Rosa's body completely betrayed her. Giovanni leaned in, his lips brushing against her sensitive skin as he kept kissing her neck and sniffing her scent, inhaling her deeply. A fierce heat ignited inside her, her skin burning beneath his touch. As much as she hated what he was doing in front of everybody there, she couldn't bring herself to resist it. She didn't want him to stop.

Completely against her will, she let out a soft, breathless moan.

That tiny moan instantly awakened every single nerve in his body. Giovanni's eyes snapped wide open. He stopped kissing her, turning her slightly so he could stare at her openly. His breath was immediately labored, his gaze scorching hot as he locked his eyes onto her flushed face.

"There's something about you," he growled softly, his grip tightening. "You don't know what you do to me."

Giovanni broke the intense eye contact, his muscles tightening as he took a ragged breath. Grabbing her firmly by the waist, he carried her up from his lap and placed her on the plush leather chair beside him.

Before she could even catch her breath, he leaned over, lowering his head until his face was inches from hers. He gently brushed his lips over hers, the contact so light it was agonizing. He pulled back just a fraction, his dark eyes dark with a hunger he could barely contain.

"Your lips are so soft," he murmured against her skin.

He didn't give her a chance to answer. He kept brushing his lips against hers again, slowly teasing her, tasting her without fully giving her what she wanted. The restraint was costing him; he yearned for her. He yearned for her so bad it was vibrating through his entire frame. Rosa reached for him, completely lost in the sensation, ready to melt into him right there in the open room.

But the spell was instantly shattered.

Smash.

The sharp sound of a glass shattering on the marble floor cut through the private sector. Someone had dropped their drink.

Giovanni’s head snapped toward the sound, his face instantly contorting into a mask of pure, lethal fury. Standing a few feet away, trembling and pale, was a young woman staring at them with tear-filled eyes.

"Get out!" Giovanni shouted, his voice booming through the VIP lounge like thunder.

The girl didn't need to be told twice. Terrified, she turned on her heel and immediately went out, fleeing the private sector as fast as her heels could carry her.

Rosa sat up, her heart pounding as she tried to smooth down her emerald gown, her cheeks burning. Before she could ask Giovanni who the girl was, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed. Antonio stepped into the private area, a look of mild amusement on his face.

Antonio looked between Giovanni's murderous expression and Rosa's flushed state, picking up on the heavy atmosphere instantly.

"Well, that was dramatic," Antonio said, crossing his arms. "I just met Isabella going downstairs crying her eyes out. What did you do to her, Giovanni?"

Hearing the name, a jolt went straight through Rosa's chest. Isabella.

Suddenly, everything clicked, and it finally occurred to Rosa exactly who Isabella was.

Giovanni did not answer that question. Instead, he gave Rosa a firm look and told her to go sit on another chair nearby while he and Antonio talked business. Rosa complied, moving a few paces away, though her gaze remained locked on the two men as they spoke.

Antonio smirked, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Is she your new plaything?"

"Don't refer to her as a plaything," Giovanni fired back instantly, his tone flat and threatening. "Her name is Rosa."

Antonio raised his eyebrows, a mock-surprised laugh escaping his lips. "Why are you getting so defensive? I have never seen you defend a lady before. Even when you tried to do it for Isabella back then, at the end of the day, you still dumped her." He turned his eyes back to Rosa, scanning her up and down with a predatory look. "Personally, I can't wait to have her once you're done with her."

Giovanni’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening to a lethal pitch. "I warned you never to call her a plaything again. Rosa is my woman, and you will respect that. The same respect that is given to me is what should be given to my woman."

Antonio scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're placing a woman above me."

"Not just any woman," Giovanni replied coldly. "My woman."

"Your woman?" Antonio repeated, a bitter edge entering his voice. "I think you're taking this whole thing too far, Giovanni. We both know you're going to discard her in a few days and turn to stone toward her."

Now thoroughly furious, Giovanni slammed his hand lightly on the armrest. "Get out if you don't have anything to talk about related to business."

Before Antonio could even respond, the doors to the private sector opened again. Isabella—the very girl Giovanni had just shouted at—came inside. This time, she was holding a fresh tray of drinks to serve them. She walked straight past Rosa, completely ignoring her, and went right to hugging Antonio as a greeting.

Giovanni watched her, waiting for her to step away. He had already screamed at her to leave earlier, but Isabella had simply rationalized it to herself that he was probably just having a bad day. After all, she used to be his favorite, and he used to pamper her endlessly. She was dressed provocatively in a micro-short skirt that practically showed off her ass, paired with a tight blouse that gave a clear, unrestricted view of her exceptionally large, bountiful breasts.

Setting the tray down, she bent low over Giovanni, completely invading his space. "Why don't we quickly go to the enclosed area to have a quickie like we used to?" she whispered seductively.

If this had been a few months ago, Giovanni would have welcomed the idea without a second thought. But now? He looked up at her with pure disdain.

Isabella didn't take the hint. She kept pressing her breasts forward, leaning over in a posture that made it look like she was just trying to pour him a drink, but her cleavage was popping out completely. She wiggled them deliberately, trying everything she could to seduce him right there.

"How are you, Isabella?" Giovanni asked, his voice entirely flat.

Isabella scoffed, pouting her lips. "Why are you being so formal with me? It's me, Giovanni. It's Isabella."

"I can see that," Giovanni replied rigidly. "How have you been?"

"I just came back from town," she purred, leaning even closer. "I was expecting to see you. I’ve missed you so much, Giovanni. I really want you inside of me."

Sitting on the other chair, Rosa was boiling with pure anger. The sheer audacity of this woman flaunting herself in front of her was too much. Her face turned a bright, furious red, her hands clenching into tight fists.

Giovanni noticed Rosa's reaction immediately. Using subtle shifts in his tone and posture, he tried to signal Isabella that it was enough and that she needed to behave herself. But Isabella completely ignored him. She noticed that Giovanni's sharp eyes kept darting back to Rosa's side of the room.

A bitter look crossed Isabella's face as she pointed a finger at Rosa. "Is it because of her? You're turning me down because of this?"

Immediately, Giovanni shouted at her, his voice cutting through the lounge like a whip. "Watch your mouth!" He stood up, towering over her with terrifying intensity. "I think this is enough. This is the last time I will be seeing this unlistening Isabella. I will no longer have anything to do with you. Respect yourself."

Isabella flinched, but a tight, bitter smile quickly returned to her face as Giovanni bypassed her entirely, grabbing Rosa's hand to leave the room.

As they walked away, Isabella shouted after them, her voice dripping with desperate confidence. "You know you won't be with her for long, Giovanni! I'll be waiting for you! You always come back!"