Chapter 70 Guilt or Something Worse
GIOVANNI’S POV
I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, watching as the morning light slipped in through the curtains.
Sleep had been impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Arya moving against me with desperate need, and making sounds that had nearly destroyed my self-control.
I did the right thing by stopping. Because she had been traumatized, and seeking comfort in the aftermath of a near-death experience.
Taking advantage of that would have been unforgivable. So why did it feel like I made a terrible mistake?
I groaned and dragged myself out of bed. “I need a shower.” I muttered to myself.
When the cold water hit my skin, I hoped it would clear my head and cool the heat that still simmered in my blood at the memory of her body against mine.
It didn't help.
Even under the freezing spray, I could feel the sensation of her hands in my hair, and her thighs moving against my hips,
"Cazzo," I muttered, turning the water even colder.
By the time I dressed in a simple dark jeans and a black henley, my skin was practically numb, but my mind was still replaying last night on an endless loop.
My phone rang as I was pulling on shoes. Enzo's name flashed on the screen.
"Tell me you've arrived," I said the momebt I picked the call.
He snorted. "Just pulled in twenty minutes ago," Enzo confirmed. "Everyone's safe. How's Arya?"
"Alive," I said, and heard the roughness in my own voice. "Barely, but alive."
He sighed and I could almost imagine him running a hand down his face. "And the men who threw her in the pool?"
I huffed. "Not alive. Very much not alive."
There was a pause. "Well. They fucked around and found out, I guess. Listen, boss, I know you wanted to stay another few days, but given what happened last night, I think we should move up the return timeline.”
"Agreed.” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Prep the plane. We leave today."
"On it. I'll see you in a few hours."
I ended the call and headed downstairs, running through the plans in my head. I would need to pack, secure the villa, check with the men to make sure all evidence from last night was cleaned up, then get Arya home where I could actually protect her properly.
Luca was waiting in the foyer, and when he saw me, he straightened but couldn't quite meet my eyes.
I walked past him without speaking, heading toward the dining room where breakfast had already been laid out.
"Boss," Luca called after me. "I need to… I have to apologize."
I paused in the doorway but didn't turn around.
"I failed last night," he continued, his voice tight. "I was supposed to protect her. I was her escort, her backup, and I…" He stopped, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I was trailing one of the men who'd been following her. I thought I could take him down quietly, and get information but he had backup. They knocked me out and by the time I came to, you were already pulling her out of the pool."
The dining room suddenly felt too small.
"You should have stayed knocked out," I said, my voice flat. "Would have been easier for you."
He winced. "Boss.”
"Do you have any idea what I saw when I got there?" I turned to face him finally. "She was floating face-down. pulled her out and she was…" I stopped, my jaw clenching. "She was dead, Luca. For thirty seconds, her heart stopped. Do you understand what that means?"
He bowed so low, his head was nearly touching his knees. “I know and I'm so sorry. I failed you and I failed her." He swallowed hard. "I'll understand if you want me gone."
I should have been angrier that his mistake had nearly cost her life. But standing here, and looking at his guilt-ravaged face, I just felt tired.
I walked over and placed my hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault."
He looked up sharply. "But…"
"We should have prepared better." I squeezed his shoulder once before releasing it. "You're not fired, Luca. You made and error, but you're still one of my best men. Learn from it and don’t let it happen again."
He looked like he might cry. Instead, he bowed deeply again. "Thank you, boss. I won't let you down again."
I nodded and returned to the table, checking my watch. Eight-thirty. Arya should have been down by now.
Was she okay? Or maybe she was still shaken from last night?
I pulled out my phone, about to text her, when I heard footsteps on the stairs.
She appeared in the doorway, and my breath caught. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun, and she was wearing loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that swallowed her frame.
"Good morning," I said, trying to keep my voice light . "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," she said shortly, moving to the table and grabbing a single piece of toast.
"Did you sleep well?”
"Yes."
She took a bite of toast, not looking at me, her whole body language screaming that she wanted to be anywhere but here.
I frowned. "Arya."
"I'm not really hungry," she interrupted, still not meeting my eyes.
"You need to eat more than toast. You went through trauma last night. Your body needs-"
"My body is fine." The sharpness in her tone caught me off guard.
I studied her more carefully, noting the way she was deliberately not looking at me.
"About last night," I said. "What happened between us-“
"Was a mistake," she cut in, finally looking at me. Her eyes were hard. "I was not thinking clearly and it shouldn't have happened."
I blinked, surprised at her words even though I'd been thinking the exact same thing hours ago.
"Right," I said, swallowing tightly. "A mistake. I agree."
She nodded without even an ounce of emotion. "Good," she said. "Then we're on the same page."
She stood abruptly, her toast only half-eaten.
"You haven't eaten anything," I said, unable to keep the frustration from my voice.
"I said I'm not hungry."
She turned toward the door, and I felt something painful twist in my chest. An ache I didn't want to name.
Before she would walk away, the words tumbled out of my mouth.
"We're returning home today.”
She stopped mid-step and turned back slowly. "What?"