had hoped that time would ease the tension between them, or at least give her some distance to breathe, but she quickly learned that in Giovanni's world

every move. The staff-silent, efficient, and emotionless-barely acknowledged her presence, but their eyes always seemed to linger a moment longer than necessary. In a house this large, filled with so

often, she'd catch glimpses of Giovanni as he moved about the mansion-his presence always commanding, always unn

justing the black dress she had been instructed to wear. It was elegant-perhaps too elegant for a simple dinner-but nothing about Giovanni was ever simp

had no idea what to expect. Every moment in Giovanni's presence was unpredictabl

door snapped her o

voice called fr

aid, trying to s

na couldn't help but feel that same strange unease when he looked at her. She had learned quickly that Luca wasn't a man to

he dining room," Luca sai

deepening. "Thank you," she replied,

re decorated with portraits of people she didn't know-wealthy figures with cold, calculating eyes, their expressions fore

dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a chandelier hanging high above them. Giovanni was already seated at the head

wering, his gaze heavy on her like a weight she couldn't shake. He was dressed in a

ce cut through the si

the fine china and the silver cutlery arranged before her. The food, though meticulously prepared, seemed ins

n the otherwise quiet room. He watched her carefully, his eyes never leaving her face. I

e asked, his voice low, thou

rt pounded in her chest. "I'm... getting used to it,

tomach twist. "Getting used to it," he repeated, as i

ingered on Lina. The man set a plate of food in front of her-something delicate, e

if his words were an order s

im. "I'm not hungry," she said, her voice

ng you to eat because I care whether you're h

d a weight she couldn't ignore. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Giova

ina felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. He stopped behind her, leaning i

ld, we don't have the luxury of choice. You don't get to choose what you want. You don't

dark cloud. Her stomach churned, but she refused to let him se

aid, though her voice wavered

knowing sound. "You will be. In time, you

o walk away. Lina's heart thudded painfully in her chest, but she held her ground, refusing t

s shoulder, his voice a taunting whisper. "But don't f

, Lina sat frozen in place, her

of her mind like a quiet whisper: How far would Giovanni