Chapter 125: You Make All The Rules
Dante’s POV
I shot Bruno a hard look, barely holding myself together.
“What was so urgent that you could not wait for me to come down?” I muttered, not bothering to face him.
I pushed away from the door and started down the room.
“Apologies, Don.” He followed behind me, his heavy steps scraping at my nerves. “I need you to sign off on some of the guests for tomorrow.”
Gianna stayed behind me, sliding her hands into her hair, her skin still flushed from everything that had almost happened.
Behind me, her voice came out confused. “What is happening tomorrow?”
I ignored her. Bruno handed me his tablet. I scrolled through the guest list and the timeline.
In our world, there had to be an engagement party where all the leading clans and a few selected people were invited. Then the Mafia King introduced his betrothed to them before the wedding. It was tradition. A show of unity and power.
I had not told Gianna because I did not want her looking for reasons to postpone things.
“Has everyone been vetted?” I asked. “Background checks on all of them?”
“Yes, Don,” Bruno replied. “They have all been cleared.”
“Nobody knows Ariel is alive,” I informed, looking up at him. “Tomorrow they find out. Since she is also attending the wedding, security needs to be airtight. Every entrance and every exit. My daughter is the priority.”
Gianna stood there with her arms crossed. I could feel her growing impatient.
“Understood, Don,” Bruno said. “Extra men at every…”
“Dante,” Gianna cut in. “You need to tell me what is happening. Now.”
I nodded at Bruno. He caught the hint.
“Aye, Don,” Bruno said. “I will make sure nothing gets through.”
Gianna folded her arms tighter, her eyes burning through me. “What is happening tomorrow? And why does security need to be that tight?”
I started walking toward the other side of the room. “Our engagement. We are announcing it tomorrow.” I said it casually, like it was nothing, hoping to downplay it and avoid the questions I knew would follow. She came after me. “Wait, what? You are announcing our engagement? You never told me there was a
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party.”
“I tell you what you need to know, pretty doll,” I answered, still not turning around.
“That is not how a marriage works.” Her voice rose. “Or any relationship. You cannot just keep…”
I turned, lifting an eyebrow. “So now you think this is a proper marriage?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“It is not a big deal,” I said as I walked up to her. “It is a dinner where we tell the families about our marriage. It fulfills certain traditions. That is all.”
I caressed her back, my palm sliding slowly up her spine in an attempt to calm her down. “You will be
fine.”
“I do not think so.” She glared at me, her eyes blazing with frustration. “I hate that you are keeping things
from me.”
I pulled her back to me and kissed her, pouring everything I could not say into it. My lips captured hers with a tenderness that contradicted the emotions between us, soft and coaxing.
I felt the exact moment her anger shifted, the way her rigid shoulders softened under my hands, the way her breath hitched against my mouth. Her lips parted, and she melted into me despite herself, her fingers curling into my shirt like she needed something to hold on to.
The kiss deepened, unhurried but intense, and I savored the way she gave in even when she was furious
with me.
When I finally pulled away, our foreheads nearly touching, I murmured, “The real reason I did not tell you is because I did not want you panicking or finding an excuse to push it back.”
“Still, you should have.” Her voice was softer now, breathless. “It is not like I have a choice.”
my
She lifted her hand to my jaw, her fingertips tracing the line of it with a gentleness that made chest tighten. “You make all the rules.”
I did, and I was glad she finally saw it. But I also knew I had to validate her feelings.
“Oh, you have a choice.” I let my fingers glide down the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my touch. “You get to choose what you wear.”
I checked my watch. “And the designer should be here soon.”
“That is not…” she started.
I placed a kiss on her forehead, lingering there for just a moment, breathing her in. “You will look beautiful in whatever you pick,” I said, cutting her off. “Red, maybe. Or black.”
“Dante, I want…”
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I pulled away, my eyes locking on to hers. “I have loads of work to do before tomorrow.”
I turned and headed toward the door. “The designer will take care of you. Anything you want.”
“You are avoiding this conversation,” she called after me.
“I am prioritizing,” I said over my shoulder. “Big difference.”
“Dante!”
I stopped and turned back. “What?”
“You cannot just drop something like this and walk away.”
“I just did.” I gave her a smile. “Relax. It is just dinner.”
“With every mafia family in the city!”
“Exactly. So you will want to look your best.” I started walking again. “The designer is good. Trust me.”
“I do not trust you!” she yelled.
I laughed. “Yes, you do. That is the problem.”
I closed the room door behind me before she could respond.
My office door opened without a knock.
I looked up, ready to tear into whoever had the balls to walk in here without permission. Then I saw
Gianna.
My irritation died at once. She looked like she had taken another shower and changed. The simple dress she wore clung to her curves in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, soft waves catching the light.
The sunlight from the window hit her at the right angle, making her skin glow beautifully.
Down, I told myself. Not now.
“I thought you would be with the designer,” I said, keeping my voice even while my body was already reacting to her.
“Bruno said she sends her apologies. She had an emergency at the store that needed her right away, so she is running late. She asked if we can reschedule for first thing tomorrow morning.”
Gianna walked farther inside and closed the door behind her. “I agreed.”
A curse slipped through my teeth. My expression hardened. The designer had rescheduled and no one bothered to tell me. I hated excuses. I hated people wasting my time even more.
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I reached for my phone, ready to call Bruno and tear into him for not keeping me updated.
Before I could dial, Gianna placed her hand over mine and stopped me.
“I know you are about to call whoever and scold them,” she said softly. “But I think I have a better idea.”
She leaned over my desk, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and heat. The position pushed her dress tighter against her body, and it took every bit of control I had not to grab her.
I forced myself to focus on her words instead of the image of bending her over my desk and making her forget her own name.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
