by Ash, Nikki
“Okay, she is family. But I love Gio and I didn’t force him to be with me. He chose to be with me and he loves me as well.”
Claudia scoffs. “Has he told you that?”
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows furrow in shock, but she quickly recollects herself. “It doesn’t really matter. Cecilia and Giovanni were meant to be together. Stefan has been part of our family his entire life. Giovanni will one day take over for his father and he needs a strong woman by his side. My dear, you just aren’t fit to be in this life.”
“Mother!” Gio’s voice roars from behind us and we both turn to look at him. He stalks over to the table and stands next to my chair. “I made it clear you are not to speak to Aria unless you’re willing to give her a chance.” He turns to me. “Aria, please give my mother and me a few minutes. I came out here to tell you we’re flying out this afternoon. Go on up and pack, and I’ll be up in a few minutes. Make sure you pack a nice dress and heels.” Gio places a small kiss on my forehead, silently dismissing me.
Before I walk inside, I turn to Claudia. “I’m sorry if you feel I’m coming between your family. I understand I’m not who you want for your son—for your family—but I love him and until he sends me away, I’m not going anywhere.”
I walk inside, closing the doors behind me to give them their privacy and head upstairs to pack. I have no idea where Gio and I are going but maybe getting away is a good idea. I would never be disrespectful to Gio’s mom, but it hurts to have your relationship belittled by someone who isn’t part of the equation. I understand she’s his mom and therefore family, but she doesn’t understand how deep my feelings run for her son. She doesn’t get how my heart feels complete when he touches me. How, when he smiles at me, my chest tightens and the butterflies my mom used to tell me about show up, fluttering all around my belly. She isn’t there at night when we’re sleeping and Gio subconsciously reaches for me, needing to hold me close to him, needing my body against his. She doesn’t hear the conviction in his words every time he tells me he loves me.
I grab a suitcase and pack a couple outfits, including a dress and heels like Gio requested. Then I throw in some lingerie and my toiletries and my camera. By the time I’m done packing, Gio’s swinging open the door, his fingers running through his hair in frustration.
“You ready?” His voice is gruff and I stop what I’m doing.
“You want to try that again?”
He scrubs his hands over his face. “Fuck!” His fingers go back to his hair, pulling on the ends. I bridge the gap between us and, removing his fingers, bring them down, entwining our hands together.
“Hey, please calm down.” I stand on my tiptoes and give Gio a gentle kiss, my lips lingering on his but my tongue never seeking entrance. His body visibly relaxes. “Where are we going? Are we running away?” I give him a wink and he cracks a smile.
“It’s a surprise.”
Five hours later and we’re walking out of the Miami International Airport to wait for the car service. Johnny is with us but keeps his distance. The air in Miami is a lot like the air in Vegas: hot and humid and sticky as hell. It’s almost ten o’clock at night in Miami, but it still feels like it’s a hundred degrees outside. July in Florida is no joke. The sweat instantly beads above my brow and I wipe it away.
Thankfully, the car service pulls up only minutes after we step outside, and after taking our bags, we take off to the hotel. Johnny sits in the front with the driver, Gio sitting in the back with me. He makes several phone calls and sends numerous messages on the way while I stare out at the view of the Miami bay. It’s pitch black but the twinkling lights of the city reflect off the water. I pull out my camera and hit the button to roll down my window and snap some pictures. If the hot air whipping through the car bothers Gio, he doesn’t say anything.
We pull up to a luxurious hotel and, without grabbing our bags, Gio takes hold of my hand and walks inside to check in. While he’s speaking to the woman at the desk, I spot a sign near the front door and damn near have a heart attack.
Miami Photography Art Exhibit
The date for the exhibit is this weekend and it’s featuring several artists I would die to meet. If this isn’t the reason we’re here, I’m going to have to convince Gio to go with me if we can still get tickets. He finishes checking in and I point to the sign. “Please tell me we’re going.”
He follows my line of vision to the sign and tries hard to stifle his smile, but I catch it before he can contain it.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I jump up into his arms—his strong hands catching me—and bring my hands to either side of his face, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. “Thank you! I can’t believe this. Francis Ricci, Cheri Vitelli, and Valerie Malone are all here!”
“I’m assuming they’re photographers…”
I gasp at Gio’s ignorance. “Not just photographers. The best photographers.”
He chuckles and drops his hands from under my ass, my body dragging down the front of his as he slowly brings me to my feet.
“And what would you do for these tickets to see the best photographers, amore mio?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows playfully. I press my body up against his, bringing my knee up slightly to rub against his crotch, feeling him grow harder as I rub.
“I think we should go up to our room and I’ll show you exactly what I’m willing to do for the tickets.” I rub my knee one last time before backing away and sauntering toward the elevator, making it a point of putting a little extra sway in my step.
Chapter Thirty
GIOVANNI
Aria is dressed in a one-of-a-kind Valentino black off the shoulder floor length gown. On one side, there’s a slit that goes all the way up her thigh almost to her hip bone. It’s the perfect mix of classy and sexy. Her brown locks are hanging down her back in loose waves and she’s almost to my chin in her five-inch fuck-me heels. Her face looks flawless with the little bit of makeup she’s put on, and she’s pacing the living room of our hotel while I’m texting on my phone. I’ve felt the heat of her stare on me for the last ten minutes but I’ve ignored her.
It’s true that we’re here for Aria to meet her favorite photographers and see the , but there’s something else we’re here for, something that will make her night even more memorable. I’m waiting for the exhibit coordinator to text me and let me know when we can head down to the convention center where the exhibit is being held.
My phone buzzes in my hand with the message I’ve been waiting for. Standing, I throw on my tuxedo jacket since it’s a black-tie affair, and tie my tie. When Aria sees this, she lets out a loud huff. “Finally! You would think with the way you screamed my name during that blow job I gave you last night, you would’ve let us go down there early!”
My cock twitches remembering Aria’s warm wet mouth wrapped around my cock, the way she slurped and sucked and showed me over and over again how badly she wanted the tickets. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be late.” I reach over and pull her into me, kissing the corner of her mouth so I don’t ruin her lipstick. “You look absolutely stunning.”
Her mouth twitches as her beautifully lined lips pull up into a soft smile. “Thank you. Now can we please go?”
I nod and open the door for her. When we get to the exhibit, I hand the doorman our tickets and we walk in. Holding Aria’s hand is what I would compare to holding a child’s hand who’s walking into Disney. She’s shaking with excitement, and with our fingers entwined, she’s trying to drag me along faster.
“Slow down, cuore mio,” I murmur. She grants me an eye roll in response and I chuckle.
We haven’t even walked fifteen feet in the door when Aria is squeezing my hand and gasping.
“That’s Cheri Vitelli,” she whispers, nodding toward an older woman, probably in her fifties, wearing a multicolored dress with…is that fruit? all over it. Her hair is up in a messy bun similar to the one Aria wears when she isn’t forced to actually do her hair.
“Let’s go say
hi.” I pull her with me toward the woman and introduce myself. “My name is Giovanni Valentino and this is Aria Sutton. She’s a huge fan of your work.”
Cheri smiles and gives Aria a kiss on each cheek. “Oh, my sweet girl, I know exactly who you are.” Her words are heavily accented, English most likely not her first language.
Aria nervously laughs. “I’m pretty sure you have me confused with someone else, but your photos are amazing. The emotion that seeps through them is so heart wrenching and beautiful.”
Cheri gives Aria a confused look. “Grazie, but I could have sworn I saw…”
“You have the right woman,” I point out to Cheri. We’re just heading that way now.” I give her a knowing wink and she quickly catches on.
“Please, Aria, if you are ever in Florence, you must come and visit me.” Aria nods emphatically in complete shock as Cheri moves on to greet another fan.
“That was really weird, right?” Aria questions as we make our way toward the back. We stop several more times as Aria meets the photographers she looks up to. She’s completely enamored with every one of them. They all mention they know her, but I stop them each time before they can say too much. They each invite her to visit them and Aria is on cloud nine.
When we finally make our way to the exhibit she knows nothing about, I walk her through the narrow hallway and watch her as she gasps in shock, her hands coming to her mouth, as tears spill over the sides of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.
“Gio! What did you do?”
Chapter Thirty-One
ARIA
As I lived out a dream come true, which had me mentally pinching myself to make sure this was in fact real life and not literally a dream, I felt like I was an outsider, like there was a secret everyone I came in contact with was a part of, one I wasn’t privy to know anything about.
That is, until Gio walked me down a hallway which lead us to a circular room, and as I looked around at the blown-up images surrounding me, all the comments suddenly made sense. Because surrounding me were my images. Shots of the hills where my mom and I used to hike, the beautiful boudoir shots of Holly and Natalie, images of the gardens in the back of the house. Some in color, some in black and white, all mine.
I walk into the room and twirl slowly, taking it all in. These are my photos. We aren’t the only people in the room. Several others are in here, all pointing at and discussing my photos. In the corner is a photo of me with a plaque, like the other photographers have, that reads: meet the artist.
“You did this, not me.” Gio’s arms go wide, pointing to the room around us. The hot tears falling down my face can’t be stopped as he pulls me into his arms. “You did all this, baby.”
“I don’t understand. How did you get my photos into this exhibit?”
“I might have snuck into your darkroom and stole a couple of your photos. I sent them to a few different galleries, and Blake, the exhibit coordinator, called me a couple days ago saying it was last minute but he would love to have your work featured as an up and coming artist.”
My heart feels so full at what this man has done for me. It’s easy to tell someone you support them, but it’s another thing entirely to go above and beyond—to take action. The last person who supported my art was my mom until she sided with Weston, saying it shouldn’t be anything more than a hobby, insisting I major in something with a future in college. I know my mom loved me—at one time she was my best friend—but she was sucked in by the false glamour of the world of politics. She lived for the sense of power that came with being a senator’s wife. She stopped supporting me to support him and I never realized until this moment how much I needed to feel supported.
“This is simply amazing. Thank you.” I close the distance between us and give Gio a kiss I can only hope conveys how much all of this means to me.
We spend the rest of the evening mingling with other photographers and guests. When I run into some of my favorites for the second time, I thank them for their encouraging words and invitations. They laugh when they find out I had no idea my work was on display here, and congratulate Gio for pulling off such a thoughtful surprise.
When we get back to the hotel it’s late and I’m shocked to see Gio’s father, Salvatore, sitting in the living room, only a single light illuminating the room.
“We need to talk, Son.” Salvatore completely disregards my presence but Gio doesn’t.
“Aria, do me a favor and head to our room for a few minutes while I speak with my father.” He gives me a soft kiss and I do as he says, closing the door behind me. I slip out of my dress and heels and take a quick shower to rinse off my body and face before putting on a shirt and comfortable sweats.
I know I shouldn’t, but I open the door slightly to see if Gio and his dad are still talking. I see they’ve moved to the kitchen and are both drinking what looks like scotch.
“By killing the senator over that girl, you’ve practically pinned a bullseye on our foreheads!” Salvatore booms.
“I don’t give a shit. I did what needed to be done. I’ll deal with Sebastian just as I’ve been doing for the last year.”
“I don’t trust your judgement, Giovanni. You have continuously chosen her over your own family, your flesh and blood. It’s time to let her go.” Salvatore throws back what’s left of his drink and slams the glass on the counter.
“And what? Marry Cecilia? You can’t be serious!”
“It’s her or your family.”
Giovanni goes silent and my heart shatters. Gio’s life is his family and his dad making him choose has me wanting to attack him, to knock some sense into the man who has no idea what he’s doing to my heart, but I don’t. I do, however, slide on my flip-flops and slip out the front door without waiting to hear what Gio’s answer is. Needing some space and a bit of fresh air, I take the elevator down to the lobby and head out the back to go for a walk along the beach.
I kick off my flip-flops and toe the water. It’s warm to the touch from the summer heat beating down on it all day. After walking for what seems like miles, I sit in the sand and stare out into the Atlantic, the moon’s reflection hitting the soft waves as they come up and just barely hit my feet before rolling back. I think about Gio’s father’s ultimatum: me or his family. I would like to believe in Gio’s eyes and heart, they are one in the same—I know in mine they are. But it doesn’t matter how Gio or I feel because his father doesn’t share the same feelings we do.
I wasn’t able to see Gio’s face when his dad gave him the ultimatum, but I could feel it, deep in my gut, that those five words broke him. I think about how Weston came into my life and slowly destroyed mine and my mom’s relationship. For some reason, he was jealous of how close my mom and I were from the beginning. He wedged a rift between us that grew and grew until we were so far on opposite ends of the spectrum there was no healing the damage he created. I can’t do that to Gio. I can’t come between him and his family. I love him with every ounce of my being but the cliché quote I’ve read so many times comes to mind: sometimes you have to love someone enough to let them go.
I have the money to move. I have the means to start over, no matter how bad it’ll hurt. I can walk away and not make Gio choose. I can put him first, the same way he’s put me first every day since the day he saved me from that basement, from that nightmare that would still be my reality if it weren’t for him. The same way he believed in me enough to make my dreams a reality.
I’ve only just made the decision and my heart already feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest, but I stand and take in a deep cleansing breath, set on returning to the hotel room, having one last night with Gio, then putting him first and walking away. I wipe the sand from the back of my thighs and start the trek back to the hotel room.
I don’t see it coming.
I don’t hear the footsteps.
But I feel the hand cover my mouth.
I feel the needle prick the side of my neck.
I smell the masculine cologne e
ngulf my senses as my eyes, against my will, close.
Chapter Thirty-Two
GIOVANNI
“It’s time for you to go. If you’re making me choose between Aria and this organization then I’m choosing her.”
My dad gives me a stunned look for a brief second before anger takes over his features. “This is not the son I raised. Letting a piece of pussy dictate your future. If you choose that girl over your family, you will regret it. She will regret it.”
I shove my dad up against the wall, my hand wrapping around his throat in the same way I did to the senator. “You want to threaten me? Go for it! But don’t you ever fucking threaten Aria. You got me?” My dad’s breathing begins to go erratic, his face turning a slight shade of red before I let him go. He bends at the waist to catch his breath.
“You aren’t thinking straight. I’m going to give you twenty-four hours to come to your senses.” He grabs the front of my shirt and yanks it to the side, exposing my tattoo. “Dalla nascita. Per sangue. Famiglia. Ricorda da dove proviene prima che sia troppo tardi.” Remember where you come from before it’s too late. He walks down the hall and out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Aria!” I shout her name, needing her in my arms. When she doesn’t answer, I go into the room but she’s not here. The bathroom is still fogged up from her shower but the room is empty. I check the other room, the living room, the terrace. No Aria. I pull my cell phone out and hit her name under my recent history. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand. I pick it up and type in her passcode. No calls or texts. I dial Johnny and after the second ring, he answers. “Where are you?”
“I’m down at the bar. Your dad asked me to give you guys some time alone.”
“Is Aria with you?”
“No… she was with you up in the room.”
“She’s gone. Her fucking phone is still here and she’s gone.” My heart begins to go crazy—something is wrong. “She might have run away again. My dad and I were arguing over her. If she overheard it, it might have upset her.”
