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“Mistresses are untrustworthy,” Gio responded curtly, breaking into her reverie, “and after betrothal, dishonorable.”
Ana stared at him in the mirror.
“And you’ve stuck by this…?” Her brown eyes widened. The possibility that he had taken their betrothal to heart stumped her. The wait between their engagement and wedding day had stretched out longer than expected. Two long years, during which they had seen each other only on rare occasions. Ana herself had almost forgotten about him at many points, so lost in her work and daily routine. Hadn’t he forgotten her too?
Gio shook his head sternly, all amusement gone. “Of course, I did. As Don, I would never stain our values by parading around a mistress. My actions impact everyone. The example I set–my men follow.”
Right. Ana slumped, subdued.
What did she think? That he’d decided to be faithful–for her? Gio cared far more for his principles and duties than for any woman. Hell, even his decision to marry Ana was because his mother had suggested it. He did everything for the Family.
“I called a meeting with some of the Pennsylvania leaders before they left town.” Gio moved on, clearly unconcerned with mistresses, imaginary or otherwise.
Ana nodded dutifully.
“Come join us.”
“Me?”
“You are my wife,” he said simply.
“But–” Women and business never mixed, were never allowed to mix. Her mind raced at the thought of being in a room with dozens of other patriarchal men. What would she say to them?
“You are also a business leader in their faction,” Gio added. “Your fashion business is very successful and yielded 4% of that region’s revenue. Not to mention other downstream revenues from that trade line.”
He’d finished getting ready and was watching her closely as she brushed out her long hair. How the hell he’d memorized that, she had no idea. “Do you know the figures for every region?”
“It’s my job to.” Gio shrugged.
“But your Capos–”
“–can be susceptible to incompetence and greed.”
Ana mulled over that. It made sense. Anyone with power could easily manipulate it to serve themselves. But even if they didn’t, she knew how men like Gio operated. They didn’t surrender power easily. He would want to inspect everything himself.
Speaking of inspections…he seemed to be absorbed in one now, watching her as she stalled on the last step of stripping off her towel.
“Uh, I’ll just wrap up here and be out shortly,” Ana said politely, hoping he would grant her some privacy. But he didn’t leave. He remained standing there, observing her closely.
“You are…well?” Gio asked quietly.
“Well?”
Dark eyes dropped to the soft swell of her cleavage visible above her towel before trailing down lower. His hand reached out and cupped her just below her stomach.
Ana inhaled.
Oh…Well.
“You weren’t asking about mistresses because last night was hard on you?”
His question did not register for several seconds, and then it dawned on her. He thought she wanted him to seek out a mistress?
Gio’s face looked set in stone as he waited for her response.
“No.” Her eyes were wide, sincere. “Yesterday was fine–good. I mean, I don’t really have a barometer for comparison. It was my first time. But it was…nice.”
Gio's face smoothed into something that almost seemed like relief before it was covered up with that face made out of ice. Eyeing her towel one last time, he squeezed her hip and left her alone to change.
