"You came back injured, hunted, and yet, you chose to fight. Not just for your life, but alongside us. Alongsideme." He paused, the unspoken 'after everything we did to you' hanging heavy between them.
"You demanded a seat at my table. You demanded partnership. You demanded to be more than a pawn in a game you never chose. You stepped into the wreckage of our parents' war against each other and declared you would build something new from the ashes."
Rodrigo's gaze swept the table, taking in the faces of his brothers and their friends. Leo's attention was on the tablet, subtly angled beneath the table edge as he monitored the feeds. Dario gave him another small, encouraging nod.
Rodrigo looked back at Giana. The confusion was still there, but it was mixed with something softer that made his treacherous heart clenchwith fragile hope.
"You are not a pawn, Giana Sorrentino," he stated, his voice gaining conviction that wasn't just for the cameras anymore. "You are a queen.Myqueen. And a queen deserves a crown, or at the very least a symbol worthy of her until I find the perfect crown to buy for her."
He opened the box in his hand. Nestled inside, against midnight blue satin, was a ring of antique gold, its intricate filigree work worn smooth by time, cradling a large, dark red ruby that glowed in the candlelight. It was surrounded by a haloof smaller, brilliant-cut diamonds. It was magnificent, ancient, and heavy with history.
A collective intake of breath sounded around the table. Iz gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Julian murmured appreciatively, "Exquisite. Late Renaissance, Venetian, if I'm not mistaken."
Altun's knowing gaze sharpened, flickering between Rodrigo and the ring with dawning comprehension. Frederica whistled low under her breath.
"Santa Maria," Leo breathed. He stared at Rodrigo, eyes widening with disbelief. "Rodrigo… Nonna's ring? You're giving herNonna's ring?"
Everyone at the table knew the Colleoni matriarchs, knew their traditions, however twisted they had become under Gabriella.
Nonna's ring wasn't just jewelry; it was a relic, a symbol of the final, absolute love Rodrigo's grandmother had spoken of, the kind that bound a Colleoni man irrevocably to one woman.
Leo's reaction was genuine, cutting through the performance. He knew what that ring meant. He knew Rodrigo had vowed never to give it to anyone until now.
Rodrigo ignored his brother's stunned expression, his gaze locked on Giana. Her eyes were fixed on the ring, wide and unreadable.
The performance demanded she accept it, play the blushing bride-to-be, but the reality of it, the history in that small box, was clearly hitting her.
Rodrigo lifted the ring from its bed of satin. The gold felt cool, heavy, imbued with the ghost of his grandmother's touch. He held it out toward her.
"Giana," he said, his voice low, roughened by emotion he couldn't fully mask. "Will you wear this? Not just as part of beingmy fiancée, but as a promise that Iseeyou. That I choose you as my partner and as my queen."
As the love I never thought I'd find and sure as fuck don't deserve.The words remained unspoken, but he hoped she could hear them in the tremor of his hand, the intensity of his gaze.
The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring. Leo held his breath, his fingers frozen over his tablet. Dario leaned forward slightly, his knuckles white where he gripped his fork. Even Frederica had lost her smirk, watching Giana intently.
Giana's dark eyes searched his, looking for the lie, the manipulation. He held his breath, letting her see the raw need, the desperate hope, and the terrifying vulnerability of the monster laid bare for the only girl he had ever wanted.
Giana lifted her left hand from the tablecloth. Her fingers trembled slightly, the nails still short and a stark reminder of the darkness they fought.
"Yes," she said, her voice clear and surprisingly strong. It was the perfect acceptance, the devoted fiancée claiming her prize, but her eyes held his with an intensity that stole the breath from his lungs. "Yes, Rodrigo. I will."
A collective sigh seemed to ripple through the room. Dario grinned, relaxing his grip, and Leo exhaled shakily, his gaze darting back to his tablet screen, likely confirming the watcher was lapping it up.
Rodrigo's hand was steady as he took Giana's and slid the heavy gold band onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly, the dark ruby a smoldering ember against her skin, the diamonds winking fiercely. It looked like it belonged there.
The feel of it on her finger, the cool metal against his own skin as he held her hand, the sheerrightnessof it, crashed over him. The performance, the ruse, the careful distance he had maintained evaporated like mist.
Rodrigo was drowning in her dark eyes, in the reality of her acceptance, however temporary or tactical it might be. He saw the flicker of surprise on her face as he didn't immediately release her hand, his thumb tracing the ring in a possessive, tender caress.
She's playing a role, the rational part of his mind screamed.This is for the cameras. For the hacker and Falcone. But the monster inside him, the one that had watched her, protected her, hungered for her for six long years, roared to life.
He couldn't stop himself.
Forgetting the audience, forgetting the performance, forgetting everything but the woman before him and the dangerous hope blazing in his chest, Rodrigo leaned in.
"Giana," he breathed reverently and kissed her.
