He showed up, sure. He scrolled through my slides, nodded dramatically, and then handed me a chocolate saying, "Brilliant. Now go conquer the empire, little prince."
I am scared. Genuinely scared. Not of public speaking, I can fake my way through that, but of Gio screwing everything up.
Saying something wildly inappropriate. Laughing at the wrong time. Insulting one of the investors by accident… or on purpose.
I don’t trust him. I don’t trust that he knows what is at stake for me. For my parents. For how important this is.
I grab my folder, my laptop, check both twice, then go downstairs where my parents are already waiting.
Damn. They look like they are headed to a royal gala. My mother wears a structured navy suit and diamond earrings, her lips perfectly red.
My father wears the same expression he always does before meetings, a mix of pride and pressure.
As I slide into the backseat beside them, my mother turns toward me. "You finished the presentation, right?"
I nod. "Yes. It’s ready."
She looks satisfied, but I feel the tremor in my chest. What if he ruins it? What if I ruin it?
My father chimes in without turning his head. "Gio and his mother are already there. They arrived early."
Of course they did. Probably to charm the staff and drink Aperol Spritz like it is a photoshoot. I keep my eyes on the road. The trees outside blur into lines of green and gold.
The hotel is only twenty minutes away, but I feel like I am headed to trial. Walking into the hotel feels like stepping into a chandelier that decided to become a building.
Crystals everywhere, the whole place screaming "rich people only." I should feel proud. Like,wow, look at my legacy,look at my parents' empire.
But I can’t, because I’m too busy trying not to throw up from nerves. I'll feel proud later. After I survive this corporate torture session. My parents walk ahead, shaking hands, smiling, already sliding into business mode.
I scan the room. Gio.
Standing near the entrance to the conference hall, talking to some guy in a suit. But it isn’t my version of Gio.
No piercings. None. He took all of them out.
He looks... different. Softer. Almost harmless.
For a second, I just stare. Something about his face looks cleaner. Sharper without the metal.
I walk up to him. "What happened to your face?"
He turns, raising an eyebrow. "Nice to see you too, Rava."
I point at his ear, then look at his mouth. "No piercings?" He shrugs. "Took them out. Thought I’d try something new."
"You? Voluntarily blending in?! Wow. The end is near." I laugh at my own joke.
"You like it?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.
"No," I say too quickly. "I feel like I’m talking to a very tame clone."
He smirks, then gives me a once-over. His eyes linger on my shirt. "You dressed nice," he says. "See? You can do it without your mom’s help."
I actually let out a gasp. "Gio, that was rude,"
I say, staring him straight in the eyes. "I was little. Obviously I needed help... but thanks for the satanic compliment."
"You’re welcome. The tight collar suits you. Brings out the panic in those pretty eyes of yours." He winks at me.
