Chapter 34 Hope
I stood in the private dressing room, staring at myself in the mirror with mounting frustration.
The cloud-like wedding dress was gone, replaced by a comfortable cream-colored cashmere sweater and dark jeans that fit me perfectly. Even my makeup had been touched up, the mascara smudges carefully removed.
Mario had orchestrated the entire transformation, chattering about travel comfort and appropriate attire while expertly changing her outfit.
Which meant Giovanni had planned this beforehand.
"Sly bastard," I muttered under my breath, tugging at the sweater's hem.
I didn't even know where we were going. Just that it was "another country" according to the vague information I’d managed to extract from Claire.
When I emerged from the dressing room, I found Giovanni standing near the hotel's private exit, deep in conversation with several of his men.
I stood there, watching him, and feeling utterly powerless.
He had removed his jacket but still wore his dress shirt and pants from the wedding, though he'd rolled up his sleeves.
The gesture should have made him look approachable. Instead, it just emphasized the bulging muscle of his forearms and the dark ink decorating the tan skin.
"Arya!"
I turned to find Enzo approaching with Jasmine and Claire trailing behind him..
"So," Enzo started, his grin was too bright for me. “Off on your romantic honeymoon. Lucky you."
"Lucky isn't the word I'd use," I said flatly.
Jasmine reached out and squeezed my hand. "It might not be as bad as you think. Maybe you'll get to see some beautiful places and make some good memories."
Good memories. I thought sardonically. As if anything about this situation could produce good memories.
"I'll be thinking about you," Claire said softly, her brown eyes shining with unshed tears. "Please be safe, Miss Arya. I mean… Mrs. De Santis."
The name made me flinch. Mrs. De Santis. As if I was actually his wife in any real sense.
"I'll be fine," I lied, forcing a smile I didn't feel. "It's just a trip. I'll be back before you know it."
"That's the spirit," Enzo said, though his eyes betrayed his concern. "And hey, Giovanni might be an intimidating bastard, but he's not completely heartless. Maybe he'll surprise you."
I seriously doubted that.
"We're leaving."
Giovanni's voice cut through their conversation, he was standing a few feet away, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"Now?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
"Now."
Enzo stepped forward, a smirk playing at his lips despite the tension. "Be gentle with her, boss. It's a honeymoon, after all. You're supposed to be romantic."
Giovanni's eyes flicked to Enzo, something dangerous glinting there. Then he looked back at me, and his lips curved into a smile that was pure wickedness.
"Oh, I don't think Arya wants gentle," he said casually. "She seems to prefer things a bit rougher. Isn't that right, dolcezza?"
Heat flooded my face and I glared at him with every ounce of hatred I could muster.
"You're disgusting," I hissed.
"And you're my wife." He extended his hand. "Shall we?"
I wanted to refuse but Claire's worried face and Jasmine’s encouraging nod reminded me that causing a scene would only make things worse.
I ignored his hand and walked past him toward the exit.
Behind me, I heard Enzo chuckle and mutter something about "this is going to be interesting."
The private plane was smaller than the one I’d been brought to Giovanni's house in, but no less luxurious.
I settled into a seat near the window, buckling myself in with jerky, angry movements. Giovanni took the seat across from me, perfectly relaxed, as if they were heading to a vacation rather than... whatever this was.
The male flight attendant appeared and I noticed Giovanni watching the man with something like assessment.
When we were finally airborne, the silence became unbearable.
I stared out the window at the clouds rushing past, my mind racing with different questions.
Where were we going? What did Giovanni expect from me?
How long would they be gone? And most terrifying of all, what would happen when they arrived?
I couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm not sleeping with you," I blurted out.
Giovanni's eyebrow arched. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." i turned to face him fully, my jaw set. "Whatever you're expecting from this honeymoon, I'm not sleeping with you. I don't care if we're married. I don't care what the contract says. I'm not doing it."
For a moment, he just looked at me. Then, to my absolute shock, he laughed.
"Calm down, dolcezza," he said, amusement coloring his tone. "This isn't a pleasure trip. We're going for business purposes."
I blinked. "Business?"
"Did you think I'd waste time on romance when there are deals to be made?" He leaned back in his seat. "I have negotiations to finalize. You're coming along because leaving you behind would be... inconvenient."
I didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. "So this whole honeymoon thing…"
"Is a convenient cover." He shrugged. "Two birds, one stone. I conduct business, and get to parade you around as my wife. Everyone wins."
"Except me," I muttered.
"You might change your mind about that." His expression shifted slightly. "In fact, if you behave yourself during these meetings, you might get to see Christabel."
My heart stopped.
"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
"Your sister." Giovanni examined his fingernails with casualness. "I thought a reunion might be nice. Might cheer you up a bit.”
"You-" My hands were shaking. "You're serious? I can see her?"
"If you're good," he said, "If you do exactly as I say, and when I say it.”
Before I could respond, he was already moving to the back of the plane, toward what looked like a private lounge area.
"Where are you going?" I asked, hating the slight tremor in my voice.
"To get some work done. Try to relax, dolcezza.” He waved dismissively. We have a long flight ahead."
Then he was gone, disappearing through the partition, and leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I slumped back in her seat, my mind reeling. Imight get to see Christabel.
But at what cost? What would Giovanni demand from me?
I desperately wanted to believe that I might actually get to see my sister, but hoping felt dangerous.
Because every time I allowed myself to hope for something in this nightmare, it was used against me.