I gulp. “So you… head the mafia?”
He chuckles, low and deep from his chest. “Of sorts. I’m building my syndicate, and one day I’ll be the king of this jungle you now call home. And you…”
He traces my cheek with a soft touch. My body tenses on instinct, but I mask it and stay still.
“…you will be my queen.”
I swallow hard but say nothing. Giacomo watches my eyes, searching them for something—what, I’m not sure. When he finds whatever he’s looking for, he rises to his feet, and I sink back into the couch, breath caught in my throat.
Then comes the part I’ve been dreading.
“If you truly don’t want this, Beatrice… if this life is so deplorable to you,” he says softly, “you may leave.”
My eyes snap to his.
It will never be that easy with him.
“But,” he continues, “that would mean your father pays me back the full amount. Immediately, and with interest. And as you know, I spent over half a million dollars on your mother’s treatment. Who will handle that bill, may I ask?”
He pauses, letting the threat—because that’s what it is—sink into my bones.
“And if he can’t,” he adds, “well… I suppose my hand would be forced to collect what is mine. His restaurant—gone. Your home—gone. Your mother. And any dream you had of fashion school? It would vanish with them.”
My throat tightens.
“I want to help him,” Giacomo says, and his smile softens rather than grows. “Truly, I do. But a deal is a deal. And you… you were never just a transaction to me. From the momentyou handed me that coffee, I saw something in you I couldn’t ignore.”
He pauses, almost shy in the way he looks at me.
“I know this isn’t easy. I know you didn’t choose any of it. And I hope, eventually, you’ll see I’m not your enemy. I hope the way you feel now won’t be the way you feel forever.”
I don’t trust my voice. I just hold his stare, refusing to look away and appear weak.
His smile turns razor sharp. “This can be pleasant, Beatrice…”
He straightens his jacket. His tone never changes—cool, calm, collected. But the edge underneath, that subtle warning, never leaves.
“…or it can be complicated. The choice truly is up to you.”
He watches me, letting the weight of his words seep into the walls like smoke.
Giacomo has a talent for weaponizing stillness. He doesn’t need to raise his voice or slam a fist on the table. He speaks softly and lets the consequences speak louder.
I own you.The unspoken words echo through my skull.
“I know this is difficult,” he says at last, like he’s soothing a stray that might scratch. “But I’m offering you more than most men would.”
I look at him now—really look.
He’s clean-cut, impossibly tailored, every inch designed to disarm. Jaw sharp, smile sharper. He could be beautiful, if he didn’t reek of menace beneath all that charm. He walks like he already owns everything in the room… including me. And he knows it.
I finally manage a breath. “But this isn’t generosity, Giacomo. You’re painting the picture of a perfect castle fit for a queen. But all I see is a golden cage.”
I lick my lips and let the words carry me.
“You know I won’t run. You’re using the love I have for my parents against me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. That includes remaining in this agreement—this marriage.”
“Smart girl. I knew there was a reason I was drawn to you. You look tame, but there’s a fire deep in your belly.” He tilts his head. “But make no mistake,cara.”
