Page 13

We pulled up to Dante’s estate and Larissa craned her neck to look out of her window, her eyes widening at the sight of it.

“Wow,” she murmured. “Your brother’s house is beautiful,” she reflected on the Mediterranean-style mansion.

“Oh yeah?” I couldn’t help but grin at her. An infectious energy surrounded her, washing away the nervousness I’d felt about tonight. “Want to move in?”

She turned to me and rolled her eyes. “No chance. This place…it’s intimidating.”

“And mine isn’t?” I scowled, trying to act offended.

“It used to be,” she teased back. “Until I learned you’re a softy at heart.” She playfully banged her shoulder against mine.

I laughed a deep, rumbling laugh. Things between Larissa and I had grown easier, in the best sense of the term. Ever since she realized that I hadn’t kidnapped her out of a personal vendetta, but rather to protect my family, she’d loosened up with those walls that she maintained around her. She might not have agreed with how I did things, but she certainly tried to understand.

So, of course, when she asked if she could meet my whole family, I had to set aside my reservations. She had already met my brothers and helped heal Dante and Luca as well. I had no reason to keep her away from my sisters.

The worst part wasn't that I'd brought her because I couldn’t say no; it was that I wanted her here, wanted to see her laugh with my sisters and spar with my brothers. I wanted to watch her exist in my world as if she belonged in it, though I never allowed that thought to surface in a conscious manner.

The driver pulled up to the house, and I stepped out, walking over to Larissa’s side to help her out. As I opened her door, I reflected on our location and purpose. To any reasonable bystander, bringing the sister of a rival Italian crime family—especially one I had abducted two months ago—to a family gathering would have seemed like a foolish move.

Then again, no one in my family knew who she was exactly, or what I’d done. If they caught wind of the fact that I’d kidnapped an Ajello, and news reached Caspian, there would be hell.

But as long as we could keep it a secret, there was no reason she couldn’t indulge in an evening with all of us.

Yet once again, my heart began to race. If something went wrong, if my family tried to pry into her background, I feared what Larissa might say. I knew she still wanted her freedom, and a small part of me wondered if she’d try to take it. She knew by now that her true identity was a secret I’d kept to myself. If probed, she might reveal who she was just to cause me trouble.

Any reasonable person would.

I prayed for this entire evening to be casual, with personal questions kept to a minimum.

“Hey, listen,” I started as I extended a hand out to her. She stepped out, and her gorgeous blue-green eyes shifted colors as they met mine. And in that cream and gold dress, she looked like a divine angel. Time lost all meaning as we stood there, her beauty all I could focus on.

She cocked an eyebrow in my direction, and that was when I realized I’d lost my train of thought.

“Never mind,” I shook my head, knowing it was too late to ask her for what I truly needed of her. Also, the guilt gnawed at me. I was this close to begging her not to tell them she was an Ajello, but I had been the one who had kidnapped her. It didn’t seem fair to put her in that position.

For once, I needed to let the evening play out.

“Come,” I said, giving her my hand. She landed a quizzical look in my direction but didn’t question me further. Her fingers slid against mine, and I felt a jolt. I squeezed harder as we walked.

The front door swung open before we reached it, and my youngest brother Achille bounded out, dark hair wild and the same whiskey eyes as mine filled with mischief.

“There you are!” He practically skidded to a halt in front of Larissa, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, you worked magic. Dante and Luca are back to their overconfident, assholish selves.”

“Ignore him,” I muttered. “He's twelve.”

“I'm twenty-eight, you fossil,” Achille corrected, grinning at Larissa. “But you are a sight for sore eyes!”

Larissa blushed. Actually blushed.

Achille walked ahead of us, leading us into the house. Without thought, I wrapped an arm around Larissa’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “Be careful. He’s a sweet talker.”

Larissa looked up at me and giggled as she rose onto her toes. Her mouth approached my ear, and I felt a tingle down my spine as she whispered, “I figured.”

This moment transported me to another time and dimension. If anyone saw us, we could have passed for a couple, and a deep nostalgia came over me, for a thing that never existed in the first place.

The realization was confusing and messed with my head. I pulled away with a polite smile just as we entered the living room.

“Look who just came!” Achille announced proudly.

“Hello, hello!” Federico said, coming over to greet us.

Inside, Dante's house buzzed with the familiar chaos of a Lebedev gathering. Luca was arguing with Dante over something at the drinks table, both gesturing wildly at each other as they drank. In the corner, my sisters Elena and Beatrice were picking at the cheese from the grazing table, their heads bent together as they gossiped over their wine.

Dante handed us some drinks, and I rolled my eyes as I led Larissa to introduce her to my sisters, the only two people she hadn’t met, besides Caspian and Kate, who were still on their honeymoon.

“They’re so engrossed in their little gossip, they haven’t even noticed we’ve arrived,” I complained to Larissa.

Larissa just giggled. “I always wanted sisters,” she said sweetly, not minding their lack of attention. “They’re lucky to have one another.”

“Ladies,” I said loudly as we reached the grazing table, “I've brought someone for you to meet. A guest. This here is Larissa.”

Both women turned, their expressions shifting curiosity as they eyed Larissa. Elena was dressed in a simple, elegant dress. Beatrice, on the other hand, was a riot. Five years younger to her, she was our family's firecracker, currently sporting electric blue highlights in her black hair and a sparkly dress that probably cost more than my gardener's salary.

“So this is why Gio's been missing family dinners,” Beatrice said kindly, approaching with her hand outstretched. “I'm Bea. The cool sister.”

“Stop kidding yourself,” Elena countered with a smirk. “I'm Elena.”

Larissa smiled. “It's lovely to meet you both. Your brother's told me such lovely things about you.”

I looked at her with surprise. That was a sweet white lie. I’d hardly mentioned my family to her, and all she knew of them was from their first-hand interactions, and that too only with my brothers.

“All lies,” Bea said cheerfully. “We are the thorns in our brother’s side.”

“That’s true,” Elena countered. She then motioned to the grazing table. “Hungry?”

“Yes, actually,” Larissa said. Once again, I was dumbfounded. She had just told me in the car how full she felt from all the cake she had eaten with her coffee that evening. She picked up a plate and began to serve herself.

Then, I realized what she was doing. She was finding a conversation starter with my sisters. An opening of sorts.

“This looks delicious,” Larissa commented as she picked up some canapes.

“Tiny, though. Don’t you think?” Bea frowned at the appetizer. “Dante's new chef is French and has no concept of portion sizes for Italian appetites.”

“Everything French is always so fancy,” Larissa giggled. “But we can forgive them for making us feel like outright bumpkins, considering how they’ve given us Paris.”

“Have you ever been?” Elena asked curiously. Before I knew it, they were discussing their travels.

I watched, transfixed, as my sisters and Larissa became fast friends. They were simply three women laughing together as if they had known each other for years. It was disarming to see, especially knowing how guarded my sisters typically were around newcomers, as most either sought favor or viewed them as a threat.

Yet there was Larissa, helping Elena arrange stuffed mushrooms on a platter while Bea kept them entertained with a story that had them all laughing in stitches. Not once did Larissa glance over her shoulder at me as though asking to be saved. She moved like she belonged, like this was her world and she’d forgotten all about me.

“So,” Federico's voice reached my ears as he appeared by Larissa’s side. “It’s been weeks since that night you helped our brothers. How have you been?”

Larissa turned to face him warmly and told him she was doing well. I watched as they exchanged some polite conversation where Federico thanked her again and Larissa politely waved him off, asking him not to mention it.

But there was something in his tone I caught on to. A sense of inquiry. When I averted my gaze from them, I noticed the rest of my siblings hovering, holding on to every word she said.

My worst fears were becoming a reality. My siblings were more than curious about her role in my life. I sensed it from the way they lingered nearby and made her the center of attention.

Dante walked up to me and handed me a whiskey. I took a measured sip as he turned to Larissa. “So what’s the plan? How long do you plan to stay…with Gio?”

My sisters’ heads whipped in my direction, followed by Larissa’s. I watched Larissa blush as she sipped her wine. “Oh, I don’t know just yet.”

“It’s been what?” Luca asked. “Two months now?”

“Two months?” Bea’s eyes widened as she exchanged a look with Elena. “Really?”

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as I observed the exchange between my siblings and Larissa. Their prying questions and knowing glances set me on edge. I knew what they were thinking—that there was more to my relationship with Larissa than I had let on.

“Won’t your family miss you, Larissa? I recall you mentioned living in Russia. Where are they based now, again?” Dante asked, his piercing gaze fixed on me, waiting to see how I would react.

But before I could step in with a cover-up answer, Larissa smoothly intervened, placing a hand on my arm as she smiled at Dante.

“It's complicated, you know how it is,” she said with a casual shrug, her eyes meeting each of my siblings in turn. “Gio's been nothing but a gentleman to me. Just a friend helping me out when I needed it.”

“A friend,” Achille wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Or is it something… more complicated?” he used her own words on her.

“It’s just that,” Dante added in a polite tone. “You’re unusual company for Gio.”

“He’s usually not the kind to enjoy house guests,” Luca remarked.

“In fact,” Elena’s eyes widened. “I don’t think anyone’s stayed in his house for two months.”

“What my tactful siblings are trying to say,” Achille chimed in, arriving with a plate piled high with food, “is that he’s never brought a woman to family dinner before. So, either you're sleeping with him or you’re very important. Or both.”

I felt my blood turn cold as I turned to Achille and growled in warning. I fought the urge to loosen my collar. The room suddenly felt too warm, too crowded, and I was furious at Achille for bringing up the suggestion that we might be sleeping together.

“Achille,” I took a step toward him, to warn him off in private, but Larissa stepped right in between her. Her eyes, I noticed, were wide, and her cheeks flushed, but she smiled politely at the room.

“Giovanni's been kind enough to show me around the city,” Larissa's voice cut through the tension. “I'm just visiting, and he's been the perfect tour guide.”

The lies fell from her lips so naturally that, for a moment, even I believed them. She slid to my side, her shoulder brushing mine in solidarity.

“A tour guide,” Federico snorted. “Is that what they're calling it these days?”

Larissa's smile didn't falter. “Your brother and I are friends. Nothing more complicated than that.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged resignedly.

“Oh, stop bothering her now, will you?” Bea commented, trying to simmer down the tension.

“Yes, let’s eat, before Achille finishes it all up,” Elena said, eyeing her brother's plate warily.

Larissa giggled, and Achille shrugged, mouthing a what through a full mouth. The company broke out into corners, some going to refill plates, my sisters now teasing Achille on his appetite. I took this moment to grab Larissa by her arm and whispered to her, “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

“Of course,” Larissa gushed, picking up her glass of wine to follow me out. If eyes lingered at our movement, I didn’t care.

“They're wonderful,” Larissa said as we stepped into the hallway. “You're lucky to have such a close family.”

I didn’t acknowledge her statement as I led her toward the terrace doors overlooking the gardens. I led her to a secluded corner, away from the windows, where no one could see us.

“What's your angle?” I asked without wasting a word.

Larissa blinked, her expression shifting from relaxed to confused. “What?”

“With my family. The charm offensive. What's your game?”

Her confusion hardened into something colder. “My game,” she repeated. “You think I'm playing a game?”

“You covered for me in there. Made me sound like just a friend.”

“Would you have preferred I told them the truth? That you kept me against my will for months before deciding I wasn't actually a threat?” Her voice remained low, but the edge in it could have cut glass. “I was trying to help you, you ungrateful ass.”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building. “That's what I don't understand. Why help me? Why be so... real with my sisters? Why not use this opportunity to turn them against me and fight your way out?”

Larissa stared at me like I'd grown a second head. “Is that what you think of me? After all this time? That I'm just waiting for the right moment to stab you in the back?”

“It would make sense,” I insisted, even as I felt the ground crumbling beneath my argument. “I'm the enemy. Your brothers—”

“Must we bring my brothers into everything?” she snapped loudly. “Is that how it’s always going to be, Giovanni? Haven’t you understood that I’m not them?” She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly looking smaller. “Must I always think of playing a part that fits your narrative? I was just being myself, but clearly, I made a mistake.”

My throat tightened, guilt spreading through my chest. She wasn't playing a game. She'd simply been herself, and my family had responded to that authenticity in kind.

“I'm sorry,” I said, the words feeling inadequate. “I shouldn't have accused you.”

“No, you shouldn't have.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears in the dim light. “Not everything is a scheme, Giovanni. Sometimes people just... connect.”

I moved closer, drawn by the hurt in her voice. “You're right. I was wrong.”

“Again,” she added, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

“Again,” I conceded, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Forgive me?”

Her eyes met mine, holding a depth I could drown in. “You keep asking for forgiveness and then doing things that need forgiving.”

“I'm trying to…be better,” I said softly.

She stepped closer, close enough for me to smell her perfume. She invaded my senses, making me feel worse for how I’d wronged her… again. “Try harder.”

I reached out for her as she shuddered with pain, my hands gently clasping her shoulders. The next thing I knew, her exhausted body leaned into mine, her face buried in my chest. When she looked up, her eyes were woeful, tired. “Is it so easy for you, Gio, to believe the worst in people?”

I struggled to find the right words, the guilt of doubting her gnawing at me.

“It's never been easy for me to trust,” I began, my voice soft. “But I’m sorry I made you the brunt of that. I’m sorry, Larissa. I truly am. I’ve just never had someone like you in my life.”

She reached up to cup my cheek gently, her touch sending a jolt of warmth through me. “Someone like me?”

I wrapped my arms around her, nuzzling my nose in her hair as I spoke. “Someone so pure. Someone who can see the good behind an act of evil. Someone who views the world in shades of grey, not just black and white.”

“You’re not evil,” she pulled back and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You’re not,” she said more insistently. “You’ve just got…”

“Trust issues?” I offered with a chuckle.

“Trust issues,” she smiled and dipped her chin, before looking back up. “But you’ve got to stop.”

“I know,” I murmured, my finger now reaching for her chin, caressing it. Larissa's gaze softened, her breath hitching as my touch lingered on her skin. The tension between us crackled in the air, stretched across our skin, drawing us closer.

Her gaze flickered down to my lips, then back up, a silent plea in her eyes. Her nearness was intoxicating, making me forget everything but her.

I needed to savor her, to feel alive in the way only she could make me feel. I leaned down just as she reached up, and my lips teased hers, testing. But then her fingers clenched my shirt, digging into my skin as I flicked my tongue across her lips. She opened for me, and as I entered, I nipped her lower lip before my tongue grazed her teeth, slid over the roof of her mouth, and she moaned softly. She thrust her hips into me, and I felt my blood and bones turn to molten lava, crawling toward my skin as every inch of me ached to feel every inch of her.

I was high. Higher than I’d ever been, all because of her.

She answered by pressing closer, her hands sliding to curl around my neck. My hands spanned her waist, feeling the warmth of her through the thin fabric of her dress. She made a small sound against my mouth, something between a sigh and a moan, and rationality began to slip away.

I backed her against the stone balustrade, my body caging hers as the kiss grew hungrier, more desperate. Her fingers threaded through my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp in a way that sent electricity down my spine. I trailed kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips.

“Giovanni,” she breathed and the sound of my name in her voice was nearly undoing me.

Reality crashed back as I remembered where we were—on my brother's terrace, with my entire family just inside. I pulled back slightly, resting my forehead against hers as we both caught our breath.

“We should stop,” I said, the words painful to voice.

“Why?” Her eyes were dark, pupils dilated with desire. “You always do this—get me wound up and then pull away.”

I swallowed hard. “Because you deserve better than being taken against a stone railing in full view of the garden staff.”

What I didn’t say was, you’re also a virgin.

“I don’t want you to regret anything,” I added, softly.

She laughed, the sound slightly breathless. “Stop treating me like I’ll break,” her hands tightened in my shirt. “I know what I want, Giovanni. I'm twenty-five, not fifteen. The virgin thing isn't a big deal.”

My breath caught. “It is a big deal. To me.”

She studied my face, her expression softening. “Because you respect me, or because you're afraid?”

“Both,” I admitted. “I've taken enough from you already.”

“You haven't taken anything I haven't given,” she said quietly. “And I'm tired of you deciding what I can handle.”

I brushed my knuckles against her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin and the determination in her eyes. “What do you want from me, Larissa?”

“I want you to finish what we’ve started,” she said, her voice steady despite the flush on her cheeks, “and not leave me hanging this time.”

The boldness of her request sent heat coursing through me. This was madness—she was the sister of men who would kill me if they knew I'd touched her, let alone taken her virginity. She was younger, innocent in ways I'd never been, and somehow still saw something in me worth wanting.

“Your brothers would have me gutted,” I said, a last, weak protest.

“Oh, they’re probably going to do that either way,” she said, in that sassy way of hers with a roll of her eyes. And then, she pulled me back into a searing kiss.