Chapter 158: Just One Kiss

ARYA'S POV

The after-party was in full swing, there was music and food and lots of laughter.

I tried to enjoy it but everywhere I turned, people looked at me with that same expression of pity mixed with uncertainty.

Like they didn't know whether to acknowledge what had happened to me or pretend it never did.

"Arya! Oh my God, it's been so long!"

I turned to find Sophia Moretti, someone I knew vaguely before everything happened.

"Sophia, hi. How have you been?"

"Good, good. You know, just-" She laughed nervously. "I heard about what happened. That must have been so... difficult."

I smiled tightly. "It was."

An uncomfortable silence fell. She glanced away, then back at me.

“Well, you look great. Really great. I mean, everything considered…" She stopped, blushing. "Sorry, I didn't mean that to sound-"

I waved her dismissively. "It's fine."

But it wasn't fine. This happened with everyone I spoke to.

The same underlying pity and discomfort. After the fifth such conversation, I felt exhausted.

I found Mom near the dance floor. "I need to get some air. Just for a few minutes."

"Are you okay?" She looked concerned. “Do you want me to come with you?"

I shook my head, waving her off. "No, I'm fine. I just need to breathe. I'll be right back."

"Don't stay gone too long.” She whispered. “And Arya, stay where people can see you."

I nodded. "I will."

I found my way to a secluded balcony overlooking the gardens, grateful for the quiet and the cool night air.

A man stood at the far end, smoking a cigarette. I considered leaving, but the balcony was large enough that we wouldn't have to interact.

I moved to the opposite railing and took a deep breath.

The evening air was fresh and clean. The sounds of the party were muffled here.

For the first time all night, I felt like I could actually breathe.

Then the man flicked his cigarette away and I caught the scent of a familiar cologne mixed with smoke.

I turned and my blood ran cold. It was Giovanni.

My stomach curled with anger immediately. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed air." He took a step toward me. "Arya, please don't leave-"

"Get away from me." I moved toward the balcony exit, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

Not physically touching me, but trapping me with his presence.

"Please." His voice was rough. "Just five minutes. Please."

I looked at him, and saw how miserable he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and his whole frame tense like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will.

I almost pitied him.

"Move," I said coldly.

But he stepped even closer. "Please, Arya. I'm begging you. Just five minutes."

Something in his desperation made me pause. "Fine. But you stay over there."

I moved to the opposite side of the balcony, my arms crossed defensively.

For a moment, Giovanni just looked at me. His gaze traveled over my body, like he was memorizing every detail.

"You look beautiful," he said quietly. "That dress… the color suits you. You're stunning."

Heat crept up my neck despite myself. "Don't."

"I miss you." His voice cracked. "God, Arya, I miss you so much. Every day is hell without you. I wake up and remember you're not there and it's like…"

I held up my hand. "Stop. There's nothing between us. Do you understand me? Nothing."

"Why?" He moved closer, and I didn't stop him. "Tell me why."

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come. Because the truth was complicated.

Yes, I hated him for what he had done.

But he had also come for me and had searched for all those months. He even worked with my father to bring down the Riveras.

And I didn't know how to reconcile those two versions of him.

"Because I do," I finally said, but even I could hear how weak it sounded.

Giovanni flicked away his cigarette and stepped closer. "I won't bother you anymore. I'm truly sorry for everything, Arya.”

He looked so broken and utterly miserable, that I almost reached out.

"But can I ask for one thing?" His voice was barely a whisper. "Just one?"

Despite every instinct telling me to leave, I asked, "What?"

He took another step closer, his eyes fixed on mine. "Kiss me."

"No!” I stepped back immediately.

"Please." He reached out, his hand hovering near my face without touching. "Just one kiss. I… your kiss is like breathing, Arya. It's life.”

He leaned forward and I caught the way his breath was shuddering. “And I've been suffocating without you. Please."

My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

"Giovanni." I choked, putting more distance between us.

"Please." He looked at me with such desperation, such raw need, that I felt something crack inside my chest.

I shook my head. "You can't… this doesn't mean-”

"I know.” He was practically begging now. “I know it doesn't mean anything. I'm just asking for one moment. That's all."

Every rational thought screamed at me to walk away. This was a terrible idea… but I was so tired of fighting.

I was so tired of the pain and the conflicting emotions.

It was just one kiss. How bad could it be?

I stood on my toes, and his hand came up to cup my face so gently, like I was made of glass.

Then our lips met. It was soft at first, like he was afraid I'd pull away.

But I didn't.

I kissed him back, and suddenly month of longing and anger erupted between us.

I grabbed his coat, pulling him closer, kissing him like my life depended on it.

His hands moved to my back, then lower, cupping my ass through the silk of my dress.

He kissed me fervently, like he was trying to pour all his love and regret and desperation into this one moment.

It was explosive and everything I had been trying not to feel.

When he finally pulled away, I made a small whimper of protest.

"Thank you," he whispered against my lips. Then, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His hands moved to fix my dress, arranging the gown then he stepped back.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, both breathing hard.

Without another word, he turned and walked back into the party, leaving me alone on the balcony.

I stood there for a moment, unable to process what had just happened. Then my legs gave out.

I sank to the ground, my back against the railing, my fingers touching my lips where I could still feel his kiss.

What the hell had I just done?

I closed my eyes and tried to understand the chaos of emotions racing through me.

I had kissed him after months of refusing to look at him. I kissed Giovanni De Santis.

And God help me, I didn't want it to stop.