Chapter-4 Home

1588 Words
Gianna “Yes, Daria. I’ll be there… no change in schedule.” Nico ended the call, jaw tight, eyes cold. He’d been restless all day, buried in back-to-back calls. Something was wrong. Earlier, I overheard him snap at Caelian about a destroyed shipment. I didn’t understand the details, but his anger said enough. “Is everything okay?” I asked quietly. “Just work. Nothing for you to worry about,” he muttered, eyes still on his phone. I bit back my urge to push. I was his wife now, but I wouldn’t beg for space in his world. “Mom wants us to have dinner together tonight,” he said after a pause. “Yes, just work,” he muttered, fidgeting with his cell phone. “Nothing for you to worry about.” I bit back my urge to push. I was his wife now, but I wouldn’t beg for space in his world. I had some self-respect still left. "Mom wants us to have dinner together tonight. Would that be okay?" Nico asked after a pause. "Of course," I replied, offering a small smile. "Why does she need to ask. We will live in the same house." "There have been times when Mom hasn’t seen me for months—even though we live under the same roof," he said flatly. "We don’t exactly do family dinners or have deep, heartfelt conversations every night." His tone was so indifferent and dismissive that I had to fight the urge to frown. "That must get lonely for her," I pointed out, keeping my voice even. "Especially since you don’t have any siblings. She doesn’t have anyone to talk to." He tensed. “She’s adjusted. I have too many responsibilities to sit around chatting.” "My brothers have their own share of responsibilities too," I countered calmly. "But we made it a rule to gather for dinner every night. It’s something we all looked forward to—fun, fulfilling, and a way to stay connected. It’s about priorities, Nico." His eyes darkened as he fixed me with a sharp look. I probably crossed the imaginary line. "Your life and mine are nothing alike, Gianna," he said, his voice dropping to an icy calm. "I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to shape me or my world into yours. Things are different now. You’re no longer an Ammassari—you’re a Baldocchi. And that’s an entirely different world." What? “I will always be an Ammassari…” I wanted to say, but his voice was so cold and devoid of emotion, making me instinctively shrink away. I turned to the windows, letting silence stretch between us until we reached the Baldocchi Mansion. The villa’s grandeur spread out before us—Mediterranean charm, armed guards, manicured gardens. This was home now. Right beneath the charming arched porch, stood a small army of people led by Nico’s mom, Vittoria Baldocchi. “Gianna! Nico,” Vittoria beamed, rushing over to hug both Nico and me. “Mom,” Nico muttered, cold as ever as he gave her a peck on the cheek. "That’s the best you’ve got?" Vittoria teased with a playful eye-roll before turning to me, her face glowing with joy. Graceful and warm, Vittoria Baldocchi exuded effortless charm, and so far, we’d gotten along surprisingly well. “Mrs. Baldocchi,” I smiled when she wrapped me in a tight hug. “So happy to see you again.” “Oh, darling girl, so am I,” she grinned widely. “Welcome home.” Welcome home…this was my home now. "Thank you," I said, relieved to have Vittoria on my side. Something told me Nico wouldn’t be around much. “Call me Vittoria,” she smiled. “Let’s meet the staff—you’ll be in charge from now on.” As she led me away, I caught Nico watching us, his face unreadable, but there was something calculating in his gaze that unsettled me. “This is your and Nico’s wing,” Vittoria said, opening an elegant set of black double doors. “I had it renovated. Hope you like it. I’m in the West Wing, staff quarters are behind it, armory near the East Wing, and that’s the pool.” “Mama,” Nico cut in, “Gianna will be here a while. You can show her around later. She should rest. I’m heading to work—we’ll see you at dinner.” Vittoria pulled a face, then gave me an apologetic smile. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said once she had left. “Her only son just got married. She has every right to be excited.” “Do you really want a full mansion tour right now?” Nico asked, his voice edged with impatience. “If you let my mom do it, it’ll take half an hour. Aren’t you tired?” “I am,” I admitted. “But if it makes her happy, I don’t mind.” “Well, I do,” he said, checking his watch. “I have a meeting in twenty minutes. Let’s skip the debate—I’ll show you our wing, then you can rest.” It took effort not to snap at him. But after everything last night, I didn’t want day one of our marriage to start with another fight. I just nodded. Nico led me through the grand entrance of the private wing. The polished marble floors shimmered under chandelier light, archways framed the space, and greenery softened the luxury. “This is our wing,” he said flatly. “Gym, sauna with Jacuzzi, three guest rooms, home theater, library.” He rattled it off like a checklist. I nodded, unmoved. The space was stunning, but meaningless. I could live in a shoebox if love lived there, too. But we weren’t building a life together—we were just existing under the same roof. I inwardly sighed as he led me through the sweeping staircase to the upper level and down a long corridor, its walls adorned by beautiful nature-inspired paintings. Nico paused before a set of double doors, and I could feel his hesitation as he punched in the passcodes. “This is my bedroom,” he murmured, but then his brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he corrected “…our bedroom.” I blinked, stepping inside. “I had this renovated,” Nico said, breaking the silence. “I hope it fits your taste. All your belongings have been arranged in the walk-in already.” “It’s more than perfect. Thank you,” I said, turning to him. Something flickered in his eyes, gone before I could catch it. Nico stepped aside, letting me in. I was sharing his space—but not his heart. The thought tightened in my chest as I forced myself to breathe. How was this marriage going to work out? “I think I can settle in now. You’re probably getting late,” I said once Nico finished the tour. He paused, eyes lingering on mine. “There’s something else I want to show you,” he said, extending his hand. Curious, I placed mine in his, letting him guide me down the hall to a set of double doors. He stopped, still holding my hand. “It’s a surprise,” he murmured, almost flustered. “A wedding gift. From me.” Before I could react, he pushed the doors open. I stepped inside—and froze. It was a study, elegantly done in white and gold, with tall windows overlooking the estate. It was cozy, beautiful… perfect. “This is for me?” I asked. “You have more than enough expensive dresses and jewelry at your disposal. I wanted to gift you something that would be useful to you, something more tangible. A space that's yours. I know you are thinking of starting your own thing. Great ideas need the right environment to flourish. I wanted to give you that, so this is it. If you don’t like anything, I—” “It’s perfect,” I said, cutting him off, and before I could stop myself or comprehend what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you. This is so thoughtful of you…” “I am glad you liked it. I am not good with gifts…I don’t know much,” he murmured. I pulled back with a smile, then—on some wild impulse—I reached up to touch his face. “I don’t know what happened with the woman you love,” I said, stepping closer, “but if she let you go, she was a fool. She lost something rare.” Nico blinked, eyes dark with emotion. His voice was rough. “I don’t understand what you see in me. I’m not who you think I am.” “If only you could see yourself through my eyes, you wouldn’t say that,” I coerced, and I noticed how his eyes darkened, uncertainty brimming in them. He didn't believe me. Why did he perceive himself in such a negative light? Because I truly believed in my heart that he was a good man. “I will destroy you if you allow me to get closer, Gianna,” a warning rang loud and clear in his words. Maybe it was madness—or just my heart taking over but I leaned in, kissed him softly, and pulled back to meet his stunned, longing gaze. “Destroy me then…”
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