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“Do you know how brave you are to fight off such a skilled guard?” His severe tone contrasted the gentle strokes of his fingers through her hair, soothing her. “You think any other Donna, or even most Dons, could do that? Why do you sell yourself so short?”
Ana buried her face in the curve of his shoulder, tears soaking his crisp shirt. Her voice was muffled, weary. “I don’t feel so brave.”
Logically she knew she had done the right thing. She wouldn’t be alive now if she hadn’t killed the guard. But the shame wouldn’t leave her, not when it had been reinforced time and time again by her family–by her nightmares. “I try so hard, but the past keeps dragging me down.”
An angry rumble came from Gio, as if he could fight the demons himself. “You think the past hasn’t tried to drag me down? I was consumed by it and would have drowned myself in revenge if you hadn’t snapped me out of it.”
Ana was silent, absorbing his words.
“You’re right…I know you are.” He hummed at her faint admission, rubbing her back. “I don’t know why I felt I was falling short, thinking you would’ve risen higher with someone stronger…like Celia.”
When his hand tensed on her, Ana regretted her admission. He had already consoled her so much tonight. Did she have to angle for more reassurance by bringing up that vile woman?
As embarrassing as it was, she also knew she had to say it. After years of idolizing perfection, she was starting to realize just how much it had damaged her. It was far better to voice the anxieties and spiraling thoughts inside her head than to hide them behind a calm façade.
And Celia had been a source of many anxieties. Her taunts and her insinuation that she was close to Gio…her cunningness and beauty...her political prowess. She seemed more fitting for the role of Donna than Ana, who was lying crumpled on the ground.
Lifting his head, Gio waited patiently until she abashedly met his gaze. “I–”
His finger hushed her as he said, “Being an asshole doesn’t make someone stronger.”
Ana’s eyes widened.
He smiled wryly at her stunned expression. “It’s true. She and her father have been a pain in my ass since day one, and if you knew the shit they’ve done, you would never compare yourself to those rats.”
Concern hit her. What else had they been up to?
Ana suddenly remembered the text Celia had sent her yesterday, asking if they could talk–no, demanding it. Had that been a ploy to instigate more drama?
“As for her being with me…you probably don’t want to hear this, but my parents tried very hard to set me up with her.”
“W-what?” Ana pushed at his chest, but he didn’t release her. Her head reeled with the news. “I thought they’d broken you two up because she wasn’t from an elite family.”
“We never even dated.” Gio’s brow quirked, bemused. “She was just one of the many contenders my parents floated. Russo was starting to take over businesses and becoming a big threat to my father. So they thought the marriage would control him.”
“Why did they decide on me, then?”
“They didn’t.”
Ana stared at him, a low buzzing in her ears.
The corner of his full lips tilted up. “Gabi was already promised to Antonio, so our alliance with the Mancinis was secured. My parents thought a second betrothal to the same family would be redundant. They did like you…” he assured. “But they thought I should seek out someone from another family.”
Stroking the curve of her hip and settling her more fully in his lap, Gio regarded her seriously. His obsidian eyes swallowed her whole. “Their plans were doomed from the moment I met you, though. I couldn’t help myself–I was hungry to talk to you, to look at you…to just have you by my side. You were so genuine and graceful, so hard-working. I had to have you as my wife.”
Ana was stupefied.
Gazing up at him in a daze.
Gio stroked her parted lips. He watched entranced as his fingers traced the delicate shape. "I was always hesitant to tell you," he said, almost to himself. "You seemed so reserved at times–I thought sharing my feelings would pressure you into accepting my hand. So I stayed silent, waiting for you…to want me."
He absorbed every feature, every flutter of her pulse, and murmured quietly against her skin, “I tried to be patient, to let you warm up to me, Ana. But there was never any other choice for me, not after that first day…Was there for you?”
An odd uncertainty lined his voice.
Resting a palm on his chest, over his heart, Ana denied it. The shock at his revelation persisted, but alongside it was a peace, unlike anything she’d felt before. Filling her with a lightness that was indescribable.
“I have only ever loved you,” she whispered.
