Chapter 74 The Wager
ARYA’S POV
I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.
My head was pounding, my mouth tasted like something had died in it, and when I tried to sit up, the room spun sickeningly.
I pressed my hand to my forehead, and forced my eyes to focus. When I looked around, I realized that I was on a plane.
If the white leather seats and the windows overlooking the blue sky was any indication.
Memories from last night came flooding back, first it was the club, then Giovanni finding me, and then... had he carried me onto the plane?
I couldn’t remember.
"Good morning, dolcezza. Or should I say good afternoon?"
I whipped my head toward the voice and immediately regretted it as pain lanced through my skull.
Giovanni sat in a seat across the aisle, looking infuriatingly well-rested and put-together in dark jeans and a casual button-down, his attention on his phone.
"Where are we?" I demanded, my voice coming out hoarse.
"Thirty thousand feet over the Atlantic," he said calmly, not looking up from his phone. "About four hours from New York."
"You drugged me," I snapped.
Now he did look up, one eyebrow raised. "I did no such thing. You drank too much, exhausted yourself running all over the coast, and passed out in the car. I simply carried you onto the plane rather than wake you."
I wanted to argue, but the truth was, I couldn't remember much after leaving the club. Had I really just passed out? Or had he…
"I didn't drug you, Arya," he said, his tone firmer now. "I don't need to resort to such tactics."
"No, you just resort to kidnapping and forced marriages," I shot back.
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. He set down his phone and stood, moving across the narrow aisle to tower over me.
"Is that what you want to focus on right now?" he asked, his voice dropping to that low tone that made my stomach flip. "Because I seem to recall you being quite enthusiastic about certain things last night.”
My face was instantly filled with warmth and I clamped my teeth down on my bottom lip.
"That was… you-" I stammered.
"I what?" He leaned down, his hands bracing on the armrests on either side of me, caging me in. "Made you forget why you were supposed to hate me? Or did I make you come so hard you nearly collapsed?"
"Stop," I said, but it came out breathy instead of firm.
"You enjoyed it," he continued, his face inches from mine. "Every second of it. So don't pretend now that you're some innocent victim. You wanted it as much as I did."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he grabbed my face, his fingers firm against my jaw.
"Sit down," he ordered. "Behave yourself and maybe think about why you're so angry.”
Then he released me and returned to his seat, picking up his phone like nothing had happened.
I sat there, seething, my hands clenched into fists.
He was right, and I hated him for it. I enjoyed it. In fact, I practically begged for it with every sound I'd made.
And now I was trapped on a plane with him, flying back to a life I didn't want, with no say in any of it.
"I need to shower," I announced, standing abruptly.
"Help yourself. Bathroom's in the back."
I stalked toward the back of the plane, found the surprisingly spacious bathroom, and locked myself inside.
I turned the water as hot as I could stand, trying to wash away the memory of last night.
What was wrong with me? How could I respond to him like that when I was supposed to hate him? When he kidnapped me, threatened my family, and controlled every aspect of my life?
I scrubbed my skin aggressively, as if I could wash away the confusion along with the sweat and club smell.
By the time I emerged, dressed in the clean clothes someone had packed for me, I felt more in control.
At least physically. Emotionally, I was a mess.
Giovanni was still working on his phone when I returned, barely glancing up as I sat down across from him.
I settled in and tried to ignore him, but the silence was oppressive. The way he kept typing, and ignoring me, made the anger simmer hotter.
"So," I said finally. "The Rivera family. Did we get any useful information from the masquerade? Besides me almost dying, I mean."
"That's not your concern," he said without looking up.
"Not my concern?" I leaned forward. "I almost drowned getting that information. I think that makes it my concern."
"The less you know, the safer you are."
"The less I know, the more useless I am," I corrected. "So what's the point of keeping me around if I'm just supposed to sit quietly and look pretty?"
That got his attention. He set down his phone and met my eyes. "The point of keeping you around is that you're my wife. That's all you need to worry about."
"God, you're infuriating," I muttered.
He rolled his eyes. "And you're exhausting."
We glared at each other across the aisle.
"I'm bored," I announced finally. "Let's play a game."
He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "A game."
I shrugged. "Yes. A game. Unless you'd rather sit here in silence for four more hours."
He considered this. "What kind of game?"
I looked around the plane for inspiration and spotted some loose change on the side table. I grabbed a quarter and held it up. "Coin toss. Best two out of three."
"And what's the stake?" he asked, leaning back in his seat with a slight smirk.
"If I win," I said, thinking quickly, "when we get back to New York, I want freedom of movement. No more being confined to one room or one floor. I want to be able to come and go as I please within the house."
He laughed. "Isn't that what you already do at your family's home? Wander around aimlessly looking bored?"
"That was different!" I stopped, realizing I was about to defend my captivity in one place by contrasting it with my captivity in another. "That's not the point. Do we have a deal or not?"
"I'll consider it," he said. "But first, what do I get when you lose?"
"If I lose," I corrected.
He huffed and repeated. "When."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. What do you want?"
His smirk widened, and I immediately knew I was going to regret asking.
"You'll strip for me," he said casually.
I nearly choked on my own spit. "What?"
"You heard me. If I win, you take off your clothes. Slowly. While I watch."
I blubbered, glaring at him. "Absolutely not!"
"I can't get last night out of my mind," he continued, tilting his head to the side as he stared at me."The sounds you made and the way you felt. It was hard to fuck you right there in that club or wake you up this morning and finish what we started."
My belly coiled with heat, and I hated myself for it.
"Pick another bet!” I stammered instead. “Because there’s no way in hell I’ll strip for you.”
"Alright." He leaned forward, his eyes dark with challenge. "A lap dance then.. You lose, you give me a lap dance.”
I scoffed and there my hands up in the air. "That's even worse!"
"Those are my terms. Take them or leave them." He snapped.
I wanted to tell him to go to hell and spend the rest of the flight in angry silence.
But something in me wanted to prove I could beat him.
"Fine," I said. "But if I give you a lap dance, you can't touch me. Those are my terms."
He laughed, the sound rich with dark amusement. "You really think you can give me a lap dance and I won't touch you?"
"Those are my conditions. Take them or leave them." I repeated his words back at him.
His eyes glittered with something that looked almost like respect. "Deal. But when I win, and you're grinding on my lap, don't expect me to be a gentleman about it."
I huffed and rolled my eye. "We'll see who wins first."
He pulled out the quarter and flipped it in the air, catching it with ease.
"Ladies first," he said, extending the coin toward me. "Call it."
I looked at the coin, then at his face, seeing the absolute confidence there.
This was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake but I was already committed.
"Heads," I said.
He flipped the coin and I held my breath.
team wars (Team Arya🪙 vs Team Giovanni )
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