Chapter 7 A High-Fashioned Woman
Molly’s POV
“Don’t. This is how you let people walk all over you. The world isn’t ruled by kindness,” Gianni said coldly.
In that moment, I feared there was no hope left for him. The darkness that had consumed him was total, the same darkness that might have driven him to vanish without a trace all those years ago.
“Get them out of my sight,” he ordered, his anger focused solely on me.
I had no regrets for interfering. Melody and the other attendants were dragged out, their cries echoing through the store until they disappeared beyond the glass doors.
“I think they’re lucky,” one of the shoppers murmured.
I frowned in confusion. They’d just lost their jobs. What could possibly be lucky about that?
Then I heard another whisper, “They would have been reported missing.”
The chill that ran down my spine told me those weren’t idle words. I realized the gravity of what Gianni had become.
Feeling helpless, I turned to Nora. “Let’s go,” I whispered. My voice was small, almost pleading, but Gianni’s command stopped me in my tracks.
“Choose the items you need first. The shop may be closed to others, but not to you.”
His tone was final. I swallowed hard, reminded again that he was the owner. Still, the question gnawed at me. Where did all his wealth come from?
As much as I wanted to use him to hurt Wesley, seeing Gianni like this, powerful, ruthless, untouchable, twisted something deep inside me.
The remaining shoppers stared at me as if I were someone to fear, not pity. Their glances followed me until Gianni’s bodyguards cleared the store completely, leaving only Nora and me behind.
I began to choose a few modest pieces, but Nora added more, piling up luxury items as if we were outfitting a queen.
“It’s too much,” I protested, putting a few things back.
Nora ignored me and picked them up again. “It’s never too much,” she said lightly.
Gianni’s voice cut through the air, deep and calm. “I’ll wait for you in the car park.”
The unease in my chest grew. I remembered he had a son. Perhaps that part of him still knew gentleness.
Once he left, I turned to Nora. “Do they have clothes for a four-year-old?”
She blinked at me, puzzled. “There are kids’ stores, but why do you need them?”
I hesitated. If I told her they were for Gianni’s son, she might think too much. “If you tell me more about Gianni, I’ll tell you,” I bargained.
She smirked and said nothing, clearly uninterested in revealing anything.
When the shopping was finally done, the bodyguards carried our many bags. On the way out, I stopped by a children’s store and picked out clothes, books, and toys fit for a boy around four.
Something in me wanted to give that child a piece of innocence his father might have lost.
As we reached the car park, I spotted Gianni near a sleek black car. I started toward him, and froze when a woman stepped out of the passenger seat.
She was stunning. Four-inch stilettos, red lipstick, and a figure that screamed wealth and confidence. Her perfume carried notes of expensive obsession, her laughter melodic and practiced. She leaned close to Gianni, hand brushing his sleeve.
“Thank you. The items are in your car. I also have some gifts for Roger. I hope he’ll like them,” she said sweetly. “Please send him my regards. I’ll visit another time.”
Roger. His son.
I didn’t recognize her, but the disdain in her eyes when she glanced at me said enough.
“Sir, we have everything she needs,” Nora reported. Gianni nodded, taking the items from his bodyguards and placing them in the car himself.
The woman rushed to his side. “You’ll stain your suit,” she said softly, brushing invisible dust off his lapel.
Gianni didn’t stop her. “It’s fine for today,” he said, turning to Nora. “Take the rest of the day off. Report tomorrow. I’ll inform you of any changes.”
“Yes, sir,” Nora replied, smiling. Then she hugged me and whispered in my ear, words that made my stomach twist.
“Beware of Don’s secretary.” If only she had told me why.
Gianni opened the car door for me, and for a fleeting second, it felt like old times. Him holding doors, carrying my bag, that quiet gentleness that had once made me fall in love.
“Thank you,” I murmured, noticing the curious glances from his secretary and bodyguards.
“Sir, are you going somewhere?” the secretary asked, her tone just a little too soft.
I finally learned her name — Marie. Nora had called her Don’s secretary, and it fit her perfectly. Polished, ambitious, and calculating.
“Yes,” Gianni replied shortly. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. I’ve already signed everything. Is there anything else?”
His tone carried a hint of irritation. He was still upset with me, that much was clear.
Marie shifted uncomfortably. “My car has a problem. I was hoping—”
Before she could finish, Gianni interrupted. “Jace, check Marie’s car and escort her to the office.”
Marie’s smile vanished. The glare she shot at me could have cut through steel. I wasn’t sure if Gianni noticed, but I doubted he cared.
“I’ve arranged for you to meet with the divorce lawyer at my office tomorrow,” Gianni said as he got into the car beside me. “We’ll proceed based on his advice.”
I nodded, though my stomach tightened at the thought of seeing Wesley again.
But something else haunted me more , the men from last night.
“And what about those men?” I asked quietly. “Will they be taken to court?”
Gianni’s expression hardened instantly. “Forget about them.”
A cold wave ran through me. The shoppers’ whispers came back: They would have been reported missing.
I wanted to believe Gianni wasn’t capable of that kind of cruelty.
“Are you still upset about what happened?” I asked cautiously.
He turned his gaze on me, eyes sharp and unreadable. “Molly, if you want to survive, you have to be strong. You can’t let people hurt you and get away with it. That’s life.”
His words chilled me. Where was the man who once believed in forgiveness?
“But what about compassion?” I whispered.
Gianni looked at me as if I had spoken in a language he no longer understood. Silence settled in the car, heavy and suffocating.
He turned to his phone, typing something I couldn’t see. The screen was dark, probably one of those privacy filters. I leaned slightly, but his warning glance stopped me until the car came to a stop.
Then a small voice broke through the tension. “Daddy!”
A little boy came running from the house, all laughter and light. Gianni’s entire expression changed as he bent down to scoop him into his arms.
“How are you, Roger?” he asked warmly.
“I missed you, Daddy!” the boy giggled.
Gianni kissed his forehead several times, his icy exterior melting with each touch.
For the first time in a long while, the sound of laughter filled the air, bright and pure.
“What did you get me? A new game?” Roger asked eagerly.
I remembered the sleek boxes I’d seen earlier, the ones Marie had sent.
Gianni opened a compartment in the car and handed the boy a few books instead. “No. I bought you these.”
He turned to his bodyguard. “Get rid of those other items.”
My heart sank. The gifts Marie had brought, discarded without hesitation.
Roger frowned. “Dad, I don’t like this book. The stories are boring.”
Gianni knelt, meeting his son’s eyes. “Life is like this book, Roger. The beginning might not be fun, but when you learn to love it, everything changes.”
As they spoke, I followed silently, unnoticed, the bags of shopping carried behind us. One of them slipped, and a toy I had bought rolled to Roger’s feet.
His eyes lit up. “Dad! I like this one!”
Gianni turned, and when his gaze landed on me, the warmth vanished from his face, the air felt like snow.