Chapter 3: The Devil’s son

Gianna’s POV

I shoved his hands off me. "Are you mad?!"

I didn't even know she was engaged. Franca hadn't said a word to me.

Dario pulled back, running a hand through his hair and groaning. "Do you want me to be serious about this marriage or not, Gianna?"

"Of course I do! But she’s my best friend. I can’t do that to her."

Dario’s expression softened. He looked at me with a sincerity that felt almost real. "I’ve always liked you, Gianna. You know that, right?"

I scrambled up on the bed. "Really?"

"Yes," he said smoothly. "But you always hide in the shadows. We can make this work, a real marriage, beautiful kids, a happy life."

My heart melted. It was the dream I’d had since high school. But betraying Franca to get it? The guilt was already heavy.

"I want to do right by you," Dario whispered, stroking my cheek. "We won't do anything too serious. We just need to make sure the party doesn’t happen."

"I want to pay her back for humiliating me in front of everyone. You remember, Gianna. You were there."

"That’s all?" I asked, wanting to believe him. "Just ruin the party?"

"Yes."

I couldn't believe I was actually sitting here, agreeing to what he was saying but love makes you do terrible things and if  this was what it took to keep Dario and save my father's company, I would do it.

"Okay," I replied softly.

"Yes?" he asked, a smirk flashing on his face.

"Yes," I nodded.

The moment the word left my mouth, he crashed his lips onto mine again. This time, the kiss was way more aggressive and hungry.

He reached down and pulled my nightdress right over my head, throwing it on the floor. His eyes didn't leave my chest.

Panic flared in my throat. "Dario... I think this is a bad idea. My parents are downstairs…"

"Shh," he shut me up, pressing his fingers firmly against my lips, teasing them. He looked down at me, his gaze heavy and commanding. "Do you want me or not?"

Of course I want him. I had been craving those hands on my skin for years.

"Yes, I do..." I whispered.

"Then be quiet," he said.

It was my very first time, and I didn't even know what to expect. But as he crawled over me in the dim light of my bedroom, all I knew was that I wanted to feel good.

I wanted to finally belong to the man I loved.

-

When I woke up the next morning, the space beside me was already cold.

I lay there for a long time, watching the morning shadows shift across my ceiling. The ache between my thighs was a bruising reminder of what I had given him last night.

I had finally belonged to Dario, but it didn't feel the way it did in my dreams. The reality was heavy.

By giving him my body, I had also promised him my loyalty, even if it meant destroying Franca’s happiness.

The guilt tasted bitter, but every time I thought about backing out, the image of my father's tired, broken face flashed in my mind.

I was trapped between betraying my best friend or letting my family ruin itself. I chose Dario. I had to.

When Dario finally stormed back into my room later that afternoon, his eyes were bloodshot and restless.

"But Dario, can’t we do this another time?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Our wedding is just in a few days."

"No, we can’t, Gianna," Dario snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation. "This is our only chance. We will be right back in no time."

"Promise?" I asked, looking up at him, begging for just a little bit of comfort.

Dario rolled his eyes, looking annoyed that I was even questioning him. But then he forced a tight smile onto his face just to keep me quiet. "Yes, Gianna. I promise."

Before I could even process what was happening, we were in his car, speeding toward the airport.

Everything happened in a blur. We boarded a flight, and hours later, we landed in Las Vegas.

The moment the airport doors slid open in Nevada, the dry, suffocating heat of Las Vegas slapped me across the face.

It was only five in the afternoon, but the air was searing, stripping the moisture right from my lips.

A sleek black car dropped us off at a massive, modern mansion. Inside, the house felt cold and empty, with high glass walls and dark marble floors.

It didn't feel like a home at all, it was like a fortress. 

But beneath the expensive architecture, the house smelled distinct, a masculine mix of crisp mint, and expensive leather.

It was completely different from Dario’s usual cologne.

Dario didn't even help me with my bags. He ignored them, leaving me standing alone in the living room as he stormed upstairs.

A few minutes later, he came back down. He was dressed in an all-black outfit, a tight black shirt and trousers that complimented his tanned skin perfectly.

God, this man looked incredibly sexy. But the tension in the room reminded me that I had to focus.

Dario moved quickly around the living room, grabbing car keys which he quickly slid into his pocket.

He stopped in front of a large mirror, checking himself out and fixing his hair, completely conceited. Finally, he walked over to where I stood frozen.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my heart beating fast.

"I’m heading out to take care of something," he said carelessly, not even looking me in the eye. "Just settle down. I won’t take long."

"Can’t I come along?" I begged, reaching out to touch his arm. I didn't want to be left alone in this quiet, unfamiliar place.

But Dario just stepped back, dodging my touch. "I'll be back soon."

He turned on his heel and walked straight out the front door as it clicked into place behind him. Just like that, he left me all alone again in this massive house.

I dragged my small suitcase up the grand stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. I had actually made a promise to help the infamous Dario Bellini ruin someone's life.

What would Franca think of me when she finally found out I agreed to do this to her?

I hoped she would never find out. I was just so desperate for this marriage to work. But at the same time, I missed her so much.

How would I even face her after this? And why didn't she tell me she was engaged?

Did she keep it a secret because she knew I was marrying Dario and was too pissed to tell me?

She had already told me she wouldn't attend my wedding, and back then, I understood her, given everything that had happened in college. But now, the guilt was eating me alive.

I looked around the hallway. Dario had always been someone who loved his personal space, and honestly, I didn't even want to share a bedroom with him yet.

Not after what had happened last night in my room.

My cheeks heated up just thinking about it. His touch, the way he kissed me,  It was everything I had ever dreamed of.

Aside from the sharp pain at the beginning, which later faded into pure, dizzying pleasure, it had been perfect. I truly couldn't wait to get married so we could do it all over again.

I found a bedroom at the end of the hall, pushed the door open, and closed it tightly behind me. I tossed my suitcase onto the bed.

Needing to wash the travel grime off my skin, I quickly wrapped my hair up into a messy little bun.

Slowly, I unzipped my dress and let it slide down to the floor. I felt so free standing in just my underwear.

I unhooked my bra and tossed it aside, but just as I turned toward the bathroom, the door swung wide open.

My breath caught in my throat and my eyes went wide in shock.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, brooding man. He was naked, wiping water off his broad shoulder with a towel. 

His body was a masterpiece, deeply tanned, with a heavily toned chest and sharp six-pack abs that looked like they were sculpted in a gym every single day.

V-lines disappeared dangerously low into his hips.

As he pulled the towel away from his face, his piercing eyes locked right onto mine. 

I froze, naked from the waist up, unable to move a single muscle. He had a sharp, dangerously handsome jawline, a stern mouth, and a tiny, faded scar right near his brow. 

My heart stopped beating immediately.

He looked exactly like Dario but the older version.