Gianna
I hated how my body softened when Nico placed his hand on my back, his fingers gripping me firmly. After last night, anyone with a shred of self-respect wouldn't even look at him. Hell, the sting of rejection still echoed in my mind.
All Nico saw in me was someone he could f**k without a problem but not someone worthy enough of his love. I should go and drown myself in the Mediterranean for having such a weak sense of self-worth. But it was like where Nico was concerned, everything just went straight out of the window. My body reacted to his touch on its own, and I had no control over it. It was pathetic.
“What’s wrong?” Nico’s deep voice distracted me from my train of thought.
“Huh?” I frowned.
“You just sighed so deeply. Are you feeling okay?” I was surprised he noticed something so small. The genuine concern in his voice brought a faint smile to my lips.
“No, nothing,” I shook my head. “I just feel a bit tired, that's all. Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep your staff waiting.” Nico scrutinized me for a second, not really buying it. But eventually gave up and nodded.
“Hmm,” he muttered, morphing back into that cold, impassive mafia boss image. Authority, power and even a hint of arrogance rippled from every little inch of him. I grew up surrounded by strong, enigmatic men—my brothers being the perfect example.
Yet, there was something about Nicholas that made me swoon like a complete fool.
Maybe it was because I still remembered what he did to that guy in school who tried to touch me. Nicholas was a senior then, in Leo’s grade. Somehow, he’d seen it happen—came out of nowhere and knocked the guy out cold with one punch. I’ll never forget the fury in his eyes… or how it softened when he looked at me and asked if I was okay. He even offered me his handkerchief to wipe my tears.
Our families were enemies then, barely civil. Leo and Nico fought so often they practically lived in detention. But Nico was always kind to me. Maybe that’s why I admired him from the start. And over time, that quiet admiration turned into love.
Nicholas Baldochhi was my first and only love.
“They are not just my staff,” Nico said after a beat, distracting me. “They are your staff too now. You are my wife, and you command them and everyone however you want. They will be at your beck and call, and if not...” He trailed off, but I knew where he was going with that.
That was exactly the kind of thing Leonardo would say, and it made me want to shake my head in distaste.
“But I don’t want to command anyone,” I said softly.
“People will never bow to you if you don’t exercise your authority, Gianna,” he said.
“They will if you treat them with love and kindness,” I smiled. “My mother always says, there is nothing that love and kindness can’t solve. We just don’t know how to leverage it.”
Nico glanced at me, and there was a funny expression on his face. Like I was some little kid who believed mermaids were real. And I don’t blame him for not agreeing because that’s just how things work in our world. Love and kindness were foreign emotions. He didn’t comment further as we reached the small crowd gathered to greet us. There were five airline staff: two men and three women. The other two men standing beside them, I knew—Domani and Caelian, Nico’s advisor and underboss.
“Welcome aboard,” one of the handsome guys with sandy blonde hair, the pilot, I guess, smiled at us. The other one beside him, wearing glasses and a blank expression, also nodded in response.
“Gianna, this is Enrico Russo and Angelo Costa, our pilots,” Nico pointed to the two men.
“Nice to meet you,” I smiled brightly. “Thank you for your service.” Both the men and everyone else seemed a bit taken aback when I said that. What? Did I say something wrong?
“The pleasure is all ours,” Enrico smiled brighter.
“Are we ready to take off?” Nico asked. No greetings or even a smile. Just straight to business.
“Yes, sir,” Enrico nodded. “All clear and ready to take off.”
“Good, then we shouldn’t delay. I have meetings lined up once we land,” Nico muttered. “Gianna...” he motioned for me to start ahead.
“Won’t you carry the lovely bride over the threshold?” one of the hostesses asked meekly, gazing up at my husband shyly. It was cute.
Nico paused, his gaze turning ice-cold as he looked at the hostess, and I could almost taste the dread that rippled through everyone. Enrico and Angelo looked as if they’d swallowed something foul, while the other two hostesses seemed ready to vanish into thin air. I had no idea why they were all so terrified. He wasn’t going to kill her just for saying that. He wasn’t that ruthless.
Was he
“What?” Nico demanded, his voice deadpan. “What did you say?
“Please ignore her, signor. She is new,” Enrico said hurriedly. “Please go ahead, and we will take off right away.”
“Are you her, Enrico?” Nico raised a brow. Enrico literally paled. Like all the blood just drained out of his face. It was fascinating.
“No, sir,”
“Then why are you speaking on her behalf? Is she mute?”
“No, sir. I apologize.”
“What did you say?” Nico demanded from the hostess again.
“I…I…I said wo…won’t you ca…carry your lo…lovely bride ov..over the th…threshold?” the young hostess stuttered. I felt bad for her. It almost seemed like she would start crying any moment.
“And why would I do that?” he inquired.
“Be…because it’s tr…tradition. It symbolizes pr…protection against ev…evil and a new st…start,” she whispered. “I am sorry…I…I was o…out of line…” Nico’s brow pressed into a frown as he studied her.
“Nico,” I muttered before this got any worse. “Let’s go.” He turned to me, and before I could say another word, he bent down, sweeping me effortlessly into his arms. I blinked, caught off guard, and I could feel the eyes of others on us, their surprise palpable.
“Wh...what are you doing?” I stammered.
“We can’t forget tradition,” he replied casually, then nodded at the woman before adding, “Thank you for pointing that out.
Without another word, he started up the stairs, carrying me as if it were the most natural thing in the world, showing no sign of exertion. I was still trying to catch up with the moment and could feel the weight of everyone’s surprised gazes on our backs.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said once he set me down in one of the plush leather seats of his jet and started buckling me in. “It’s a stupid tradition.”
Nico looked up, his face as unreadable as ever, but there was something in his eyes—something that spoke of quiet resolve. For a few long moments, we just stared at each other. It was a silent exchange we’d grown accustomed to.
“I’m determined to do things the right way, Gianna,” he said after a beat, his voice heavier than usual, and I blinked, my breath hitching when he traced his thumb over my cheek softly, his eyes turning dark.
His lips were barely a few breaths away, and I so wished he would kiss me again. I noticed his eyes falling on my lips and lingering there for a few seconds before he clenched his jaw and moved back, his face turning black again as he added…
“At least the things I can.”