On one screen, a port authority dashboard updates in real time, containers logged, ships docked, delays flagged. On another, a real estate portfolio scrolls past: commercial holdings, residential developments, redevelopment zones. Security briefings blink in and out. Logistics contracts. Shipping routes.
Legitimate. All of it.
Or legitimate enough that the line between clean and compromised is impossible to see.
“You’re staring,” Giovanni says without looking up.
“Because you’re not hiding anything,” I reply, suspicion sharpening my tone. “Which makes me nervous.”
He finally turns to me, one brow lifting. “I told you that on the island. I never meant to keep secrets from you.”
“That’s… not reassuring.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Ask me anything.”
The invitation hangs between us, real and dangerous.
I hesitate, then go for the thing that’s been circling my thoughts since the dinner party, since Isabella, since the women in tailored suits who move through this space like they belong to it far more than I do.
“Why do you want me this much?” I ask quietly.
The room seems to still.
Giovanni studies me, not like a man searching for the right answer, but like one deciding how much truth to give.
“Because you don’t cower when you see me coming,” he says at last. “You stand your ground. You bare your teeth. You’re a chihuahua facing down a grizzly without an ounce of fear, and I find that very, very sexy.”
Warmth blooms in my chest despite myself.
“I don’t know about chihuahua,” I say, lips twitching. “I see myself more as… a fox. Cute. Clever. Will absolutely ruin your life if underestimated.”
He grins outright.
We hold each other’s gaze for a beat too long, something unspoken tightening the air. Then I break it, because if I don’t, I might forget why I’m still fighting.
“I don’t want to be a housewife,” I say abruptly.
Giovanni blinks.
“That wasn’t a question.”
“I’m clarifying,” I reply. “Before assumptions get made.”
He leans back against his desk, arms folding.
“Go on.”
“Before I met you, I was studying for my real estate licence,” I continue. “Commercial focus. Development. Urban renewal. I like spaces. How they change people. How money reshapes neighbourhoods for better or worse.”
His gaze sharpens, interest unmistakable. “You’d fit in my empire,bellezza,” he says slowly. “Property is the spine of this city.”
“That’s not an offer,” I warn.
“No,” he agrees. “It’s an observation.”
I hesitate. “I don’t want to disappear into your world. I want… agency.”
He considers that, then smiles with dangerous ease. “You could also give me heirs if you get bored.”
