Chapter 128: A Better Start
Gianna’s POV
I stood in front of the three–way mirror, studying my reflection as the designer’s assistant adjusted the pins in my hair. The boutique was elegant, with cream walls. The kind of place that screamed old money and exclusivity.
My body buzzed with nerves.
Not just about dress shopping. About what had to happen first.
Through the mirror, I could see Arielle sitting on one of the velvet chairs behind me, her hands folded in her lap. She looked nervous too. Good. At least I wasn’t the only one.
Dante stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in rapid Italian. Even from here, I could see the tension in his shoulders. His men were positioned throughout the boutique, Bruno by the door, two more outside, and I’d spotted at least one on the rooftop across the street when we’d arrived.
Overkill, maybe. But I understood it now, after what he’d told me about the kidnapping.
“Miss Deluca?” The assistant smiled at me. “We’re ready whenever you are.”
I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Miss Deluca,” she repeated. “We can start showing you the collection whenever you’re ready.”
A laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. “It’s Giovanni. We haven’t officially gotten married yet.
The assistant’s cheeks flushed pink. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I just assumed…”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off gently, not wanting to make this more awkward than it already was. “Really. Just give me a moment, okay? I’ll join you in a bit.”
She nodded quickly and disappeared into the back room. 1
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I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. Arielle and I needed to talk. We’d tried on the way here, but with the guards in the front seat and Dante beside me, it hadn’t felt personal. It felt like performing for an audience. This needed to be private. Just the two of us.
I walked over to where she sat. Her eyes widened as I approached, and she quickly looked away, like she wasn’t sure if I was even coming toward her.
“Arielle,” I called gently. “Can we talk? Before we start?”
She glanced at me first, then her father. Dante had finished his call and was watching us, but he made no move to intervene. He just gave Arielle a small nod.
“Okay,” she replied softly.
I sat down in the chair next to her, smoothing my dress over my knees. For a moment, neither of us
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spoke.
“I wanted to…” we both started at the same time.
I laughed softly. “You first.”
Arielle shook her head. “No, you.”
“Okay.” I turned to face her. “I just want you to know I get it. Your father marrying me. Me being here. I know this is hard for you.”
“You’re right. It hasn’t been easy, accepting someone stepping into my mom’s place…”
Arielle’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “But I also wanted to apologize,” she said quickly, the words rushing out like she’d been holding them in too long. “For what I said earlier. About your mom. I know now that it was unkind, to you, or to anyone. And I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in her voice caught me completely off guard. I’d expected defensiveness, maybe a half- hearted apology forced by her father. Not this. Not genuine remorse.
“I was hurt,” I admitted. “But I understand where it came from. You’re protecting your mother’s memory. Your family. I get that.”
“It’s not an excuse though,” she insisted. “My dad told me… he told me that just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you get to be mean to others.”
She took a deep breath and continued. “My mom was the kindest person I knew, and she was stronger than anyone.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I wasn’t honoring her memory by being harsh to you. I was doing the opposite.”
My throat tightened. I took her hand.
“Your mother must have been an incredible woman, to raise a daughter who can own her mistakes and
actually say she’s sorry.”
Arielle smiled through her tears.
“Well, my dad does deserve some credit too. He helped me see things clearly.”
Warmth spread through my chest. Dante hadn’t just defended me, he’d faced a hard conversation with his daughter, the one he protected more fiercely than anything, all for me. My heart softened toward him in a way I wasn’t ready to name.
I glanced over at him. He’d settled into one of the chairs now, working on his iPad, but I knew he was following our conversation. He looked unfairly handsome sitting there, his dark hair styled perfectly. He radiated danger and power even in a dress boutique, and something about that combination made my pulse quicken.
Arielle squeezed my hand, drawing my attention back to her. “I’m going to try. To not be… awful. To give you a chance.”
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“Thank you,” I replied, meaning it. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
I paused, then added, “And I have a proposal. What if we both start over? Get to know each other properly. Maybe even become friends.”
“I’d like that,” she said softly.
I pulled my hand back and held it out formally. “Hi, I’m Gianna. And I’ve heard great things about you.”
A smile broke across Arielle’s face. She took my hand and shook it. “I’m Arielle. Nice to meet you.” 1
We both burst into laughter at the absurdity of it.
“That’s a better start,” I giggled, squeezing her hand. “Because I meant what I said to your father. I think you and I could be good together. If we give it a shot.”
She really smiled, the first genuine smile I’d seen from her since we met. “Thank you for inviting me today. I know you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I thought it might be fun. And honestly, I have no clue about dresses, so I’ll definitely need your help picking the perfect wedding dress.”
That made her laugh. “I love shopping. Like, really love it. My mom and I used to go all the time before…” She trailed off.
“Before the kidnapping,” I finished gently.
She nodded. “Dad hasn’t let me out much since then. He’s scared something will happen again.”
I glanced over at Dante. He was still pretending to be absorbed in his iPad, but I could see the way his eyes followed our every moment.
“He loves you,” I assured her. “Everything he does is to protect you. Even when it seems extreme.”
“I know.” She wiped her eyes. “I just wish things could be normal sometimes, you know? Like other kids.”
“Maybe we can give you a little bit of normal today,” I suggested. “What do you say?”
Her whole face lit up like I’d just offered her the world. “Yes! Oh my god, yes. I have so many ideas. Do you want something classic or modern? Long train or short? What about the neckline? And colors, are you thinking traditional or…”
I laughed, holding up a hand. “Slow down. Let’s start with trying some on and see what feels right.”
“Okay, okay.” She bounced in her seat, suddenly looking like the carefree teenager she was supposed to be. “This is going to be so fun.”
Dante walked over, his expression softening as he looked at his daughter. “Everything okay?”
“Better than okay,” Arielle squealed, grinning. “We’re going to find Gianna the perfect dress.”
He looked at me, a question in his eyes.
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“We’re good,” I reassured him. “We talked.”
He let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The relief in his expression was obvious. Maybe even pride.
“Awesome.” He pulled us both into a gentle embrace, pressing a kiss to Arielle’s hair, then mine. “My girls are getting along.”
We both giggled.
“I’m going to let you ladies have your moment.” He stepped back. Then his mouth curved into a smirk.” Besides, Gianna would have my head if I caught even a glimpse of the dress.”
Arielle nodded seriously. “She’s right, Dad. It’s bad luck.”
Dante raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.” Then his voice shifted into full protective father mode. “But remember what we talked about. Stay close. And you both better not wander off.”
“I know, Dad.” Arielle rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Yes, sir,” I gave a mock salute, mimicking her tone.
Dante leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Keep being a brat and I’ll remind you exactly who’s in charge when we get home.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. I gasped and swatted at his chest. “Excuse me, may I remind you that we’re in public!”
Dante opened his mouth to respond when Arielle’s voice cut him off.
“Dad! Enough!” she groaned. “It’s our time now.”
She grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward the back room, away from her insufferable father, who was now smirking like he’d won some kind of prize.
“Have fun, ladies,” he called after us.
I glanced back at him one more time. He’d settled back into his chair, iPad in hand, but his eyes were on me. Always watching. Always protecting.
And maybe, just maybe, I was starting to like it.
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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.
