Rodrigo shot him a withering look and drained the cold espresso, the bitter liquid grounding him.
"Tell Leo to confirm the surveillance feed diversion is active, and ensure Athena hasn't decided to 'test' the welcome protocols near the front gate just for fun."
Dario grinned. "Already done. Kon's keeping her occupied, but try to remember Silas raised her and would see any of her tricks a mile away anyway." He vanished as quickly as he appeared.
Rodrigo took a quick shower and put on dark, impeccably tailored trousers and a crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He avoided the tie Giana had threatened to use for purposes beyond sartorial elegance. It would only remind him of the night before and distract him more than he already was.
He looked at the small, red velvet box on his top shelf. He had taken it from his personal safe the day before and stared at the contents for a long time. He had put it in his wardrobe, deciding to let it sit there until the perfect moment.
Today was about performance and projecting the image of a man blissfully distracted by love and impending matrimony, not one coiled tight with inconvenient desire. The distracted part he could do nothing about. Everything about Giana made him lose his usual common sense and self-preservation.
Moments later, Rodrigo found Giana in the grand entrance hall, talking quietly with Leo, who was showing her something on a tablet.
She wore a simple, elegant dress in deep emerald that made her skin glow. Her hair was loosely pinned up, exposing the graceful line of her neck, and her makeup was nothing more than a few flicks of liquid eyeliner and red lips. She looked so radiant that he found he was having trouble breathing.
Mine, mine, mine, a voice chanted inside of him.
Giana turned as he approached, and their eyes met. A small, tentative smile touched her lips. "Ready for our audience?"
The simple question sent warmth spreading through his chest. He offered his arm. "As ready as I'll ever be,anima mia."
Giana slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, her touch light but firm. The contact was hot, even through the fabric of his shirt. He covered her hand with his own, a possessive gesture that felt as natural as breathing.
Leo gave them a knowing look and a secret thumbs-up before turning back to his tablet to monitor the approaching vehicles.
The low thrum of powerful engines announced the arrival, and moments later, the heavy front doors swung open, framing their guests against the Tuscan sunlight.
Silas Edgeworth entered first, his sharp gaze sweeping the hall before landing on Rodrigo and Giana.
A wide smile touched his lips as he said in a deep rumble, "Rodrigo. Giana. Congratulations seem to be in order."
Beside him, Iz practically vibrated with energy. Her bright eyes darted around, taking in the vaulted ceilings, the polished marble, before zeroing in on Giana.
"Wow, this place is even creepier and more gorgeous than I remember. Congrats, Giana! Though, honestly, locking yourself down with this grumpy bastard?" She jerked a thumb at Rodrigo, grinning cheekily. "Bold move. I like it."
Rodrigo merely raised an eyebrow at Iz's irreverence. Giana, however, laughed, a warm sound that eased some of the tension in Rodrigo's shoulders.
"He grows on you," she said lightly, squeezing his arm.
"Like a particularly attractive fungus," Iz agreed cheerfully.
Julian Burbank entered next, looking every inch the distinguished rare objects dealer and occasional underworld power broker in an expensive but understated suit, silver-streaked hair perfectly groomed, cold blue eyes missing nothing.
He offered a polite, measured nod. "Rodrigo. Miss Sorrentino. A pleasure to see you again under such improved circumstances."
He kissed Giana's hand with a charm Rodrigo didn't entirely like. He knew it was ridiculous because Julian only had eyes for one woman, and she was behind him.
Altun Baruk, the Sorceress of Istanbul, moved with an unhurried grace that belied her true age and power. The stark silver streak in her otherwise dark hair had made her even more striking. Her presence commanded attention, a quiet hum of contained energy that seemed to shift the air in the room.
Her gaze landed on Frederica, who had materialized near Dario by the grand staircase, and a wide smile touched Altun's lips.
"Merhaba canim, nasilsin?" Altun's voice was a smooth contralto, rich as honey. She crossed the hall, arms opening.
Frederica met her halfway, an unguarded expression of affection on her face as she stepped into the embrace. "Altun, I'm good. It's so nice to see you." They hugged tightly, a moment of true affection amidst the calculated performance.
"Staying out of trouble?" Altun asked softly as they parted, her hands resting on Frederica's shoulders.
