5

Gianna

I was still shivering when I walked into my bedroom after my first meeting with Alessio.

It had been intense and cold, not to mention dominating. Are you ordering me to change my wardrobe? How dare he?

"There you are! Where have you been?"

Mom asked, ushering me toward my walk-in closet.

"We have to get you ready. For God's sake, Gianna, what are you wearing?"

She tugged at my clothes until I started to undress, still in a trance. Mom cast me a curious look.

"What's with you?"

"Nothing," I said quietly. Mom turned back to the selection of clothes she must have laid out on the bench before I arrived.

"I can't believe you don't own a single decent outfit."

I had always avoided going to official events because I hated the insincere and prickly attitude of those who attended them.

"What's wrong with the clothes I own?"

Mother had chosen the three least extravagant dresses from my collection.

They were all in my favorite retro Audrey Hepburn style. Mom got a sky blue dress with white polka dots.

"You don't have anything plain?"

"No," I said. Had she never paid attention to my clothes?

I had Dad to thank for the freedom to wear what I liked. While he was

conservative, he had a hard time saying no to me. Mom had no choice but to bow to his command. Mother sighed, then handed me the blue dress. "This matches your eyes. Let's hope Alessio won't be put off by the ridiculous style."

I put on the dress without saying a word, remembering Alessio's words about my clothes and my bangs.

"Put on makeup, Gianna. You need to look older."

I turned an exasperated expression to her, but she was already on her way out.

"And wear heels!" Taking a deep breath, I blinked to stop the tears. Up to that point I had been lucky. I preferred to turn a blind eye to the reality of mass life, but I knew what went on behind closed doors. Our world was cruel. Dad had been good to me, but I had seen how many of my cousins had been mistreated by their fathers, how my uncles treated their wives.

My last boyfriend had been close to my age, a quiet, almost shy boy whom Father had chosen to protect me.

I could have stood up to him in a marriage. It would have been a difficult task with Alessio. I didn't like to give in to negative emotions, but my fear was a sharp pain in my chest. Grabbing my blue heels, I headed toward my vanity. My eyes were glassy as I checked my reflection.

I wore more makeup than usual, but still much less than Mom and Alessio probably expected.

By the time I descended the stairs for the official introductions, I had managed to calm down. My eyes were still too hot from almost crying, but my smile did not falter as I walked down the stairs toward Dad, Alessio, and his partner Faro.

Dad took my hand, squeezing it as he led me toward my future husband. Alessio's expression was a masterpiece of controlled courtesy as he looked at me. His eyes were dark blue, like the depth of the ocean, and gave the impression that they could swallow you up as easily as the bottomless sea. Disapproval flashed across his face as he took my dress.

"Alessio, meet my daughter Gianna." A hint of warning echoed in Dad's voice, which bounced off Alessio's stoic demeanor.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gianna."

His mouth tightened into an almost nonexistent smile as he took my hand and kissed it. I shivered.

Dark blue eyes settled on mine and I straightened my spine.

"The pleasure is all mine, Alessio." Dad cast a look between Alessio and me, worried. Maybe he finally realized he had thrown me to a wolf. Dad tried to intimidate my future husband with a somber look, but a sheep did not become a predator by wearing wolf fur, and Dad had never been more than prey among the bloodthirsty monsters of our circles. Alessio straightened up, ignoring Dad, and nodded toward his companion.

"That's my right hand and my advisor, Faro."

I extended my hand, but Faro did not take it and merely tilted his head politely. Dropping my arm, I approached Dad, who scrutinized my face. He looked conflicted, and I felt a sick satisfaction at his obvious conflict.

"I will send a new wardrobe for Gianna. Please tell your wife to take your daughter's measurements," Alessio said.

"I need a woman by my side, not a girl." It was too much for Dad.

"Maybe this was a mistake and I should cancel our agreement."

Alessio moved in front of Dad, fixing him with a look that turned my stomach.

"We shook hands on the engagement, Felix. We settled things with Luca. Everything is agreed upon. Since we decided not to make a separate engagement, that makes Gianna my fiancée, and I tell you now that no one, least of all you, will prevent this marriage."

Maybe Alessio had not wanted me, but he certainly would not let anyone take me away from him. I held my breath.

This was Father's house, ruling this town. He bowed only to Luca, certainly not to another Underboss. At least, that's how it should have been. Yet Father cleared his throat and lowered his eyes.

"I'm not going to cancel our agreement. I was just making a point." What point?

Alessio's expression asked the same question. Mom burst in at that moment, completely unaware of what was happening. "Dinner is ready!"

Her smile fell when she saw us. Alessio held out his arm for me to take. I cast a glance at Dad, but he avoided my gaze. The message was clear: from that day Alessio would lead the way.

I rested my palm on my boyfriend's strong forearm. If Dad could no longer protect me, it meant that I had to protect myself.

Alessio led me into the dining room, following Mom, who was prattling on about possible color schemes for our wedding. Alessio probably didn't care at all. As a man, he wouldn't even have to pretend otherwise, unlike me, the happy bride-to-be.

When we reached the dining table, he pulled out the chair for me.

"Thank you." I sank down, smoothing my dress. Alessio sat across from me. His eyes lingered on my bangs before moving on to my flower earrings, probably deciding what new haircut he would order me to get and what jewelry to buy for me. He wanted to turn me into the wife he wanted, mold me like clay.

Perhaps he thought my age made me a spineless puppet bowing to his master at the slightest tug on his strings. I met his gaze. I had mastered the subtle art of getting what I wanted with a smile and kindness, the only way a woman could get what she wanted in our world. Would this work with Alessio?

Dad always melted when I blinked, but I had a feeling Alessio would not be easily swayed.

A week later, two packages full of dresses, skirts and blouses arrived at our door.

Mom could barely contain her excitement as she unpacked clothes from Max Mara, Chanel, Ted Baker and many other of her favorite designers. The clothes were pretty and elegant. It wasn't me at all.

I understood Alessio's need to portray a certain image to the public, and at official events I definitely would not have worn my sunflower dress, I just wished he would have asked me to buy some fancy clothes and not bought them for me as if he did not value my opinion, which of course he did.