GIO
Releasing Leonardo from my grasp, I straightened and extended my hand toward him. He accepted the gesture, allowing me to pull him to his feet. A firm clap on his shoulder conveyed both camaraderie and a veiled threat. Leaning in, I lowered my voice, a subtle warning veiled within my words. “Remember, Massimo is like your brother. And his bond with our family runs deeper than blood.”
The implication lingered unspoken: any misstep on his part would have consequences that stretched beyond himself, consequences that Massimo would bear.
A visible tenseness swept through Leonardo as he absorbed my unspoken message. “You can trust me with your wife, Gio. I swear it on my honor,” he assured, his fingers brushing over the tattoo that marked his loyalty.
My gaze held his, an intensity that conveyed my cautious optimism. “Trust doesn’t come easy to me, Leonardo. But actions will speak.”
“I will prove myself,” he replied with a solemn nod, an undertone of understanding present in his voice. He wasn’t naive; he knew the weight of this responsibility.
His question, cautious and carefully chosen, cut through the air. “Is that why Gabriele is no longer sufficient?”
The words were reluctantly spoken, my own discomfort evident despite my composed exterior. “She’s carrying my child,” I admitted, the confession causing a subtle bristle in my demeanor.
Leonardo nodded, a mix of understanding and apprehension in his eyes. It was clear that he comprehended the gravity of the task I was entrusting him with. “She’ll be safe,” he reiterated, the commitment unwavering.
My gaze sharpened, my tone resolute. “If you sense a threat, neutralize it first and question later. I’d rather deal with the consequences of being too swift than too late. Do you understand?”
Another nod, this one punctuated by a solid affirmation. “I understand.”
The corner of my mouth quirked, detecting the flicker of surprise that danced across his expression when I mentioned Mathias’s awareness. There were layers he didn’t grasp, but there was no need to delve into them now. “Good. Remember, no one outside the Family should know about Millie’s pregnancy until it’s inevitable. And even then, it’s only for us. No photos, no press. If you spot a photographer, apprehend them, or at least note their identity. I’ll handle the rest. Mathias is already in the loop. Our priority is to shield this knowledge from the Bratva and the De Fiore. Are we clear?”
His nod held determination, his loyalty unwavering. “Crystal clear.”
Fixing him with a final intent gaze, I concluded, “Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to my wife.”
A respectful inclination of his head marked his acknowledgment.
MILLIE
Gio’s innate protectiveness had always been a defining trait, a quality that had become an integral part of our relationship over time. The sensation of his watchful gaze had practically become second nature to me. But ever since he had discovered my pregnancy, this protective instinct of his had evolved into something almost suffocatingly intense. It was as if a whole new layer of guardianship had unfurled within him. He was now virtually inseparable from my side, a sentinel safeguarding me from any potential harm. And in particular, he harbored an unmistakable aversion to leaving me alone in the company of Gabriele.
I was well aware that Gio had orchestrated an additional layer of protection for me, something beyond his constant presence. He had taken it upon himself to designate a new guardian, a role I had come to understand as being pivotal to my safety. The mere thought of this arrangement didn’t seem to sit well with Gabriele a sentiment that was difficult to ignore, though truthfully, Gabriele and I had never fostered a particularly warm rapport. While Dario, Gio’s previous guard, had somehow managed to bridge the gap between professional duty and personal camaraderie, Gabriele had always remained staunchly within the confines of his role a guardian and nothing more.
As the elevator initiated its upward climb, Gio’s decisive strides carried him toward the awaiting lift, while I chose to linger against the backdrop of the kitchen counter. The elevator doors slid open with a hushed whisper, revealing the entrance of a tall, young man. His handshake with Gio was firm and resolute, a preamble to the careful scrutiny he directed toward me. His onyx eyes, sharp and penetrating, were matched only by the cascade of raven-black hair that framed his face.
“Allow me to introduce my cousin, Leonardo,” Gio’s voice resonated, introducing the newcomer. A cousin but with a lineage of complexities. Whispers and hushed conversations had painted Leonardo as a child of dubious heritage, a fact that had stirred my resentment. I had glimpsed him intermittently over the years, most notably during my wedding an adolescent presence then, a few years my junior. Presently, he must have crossed into his early twenties, perhaps twenty or twenty-one? He inclined his head with a respectful tilt, and in response, I bridged the distance between us, extending a hand in greeting. Leonardo’s gaze flickered momentarily toward Gio, an almost instinctive reflex. My eyes, in return, couldn’t help but roll in response. A practiced reaction, given the familiarity I had developed with such conduct among Gio’s loyal retinue. This minor exchange didn’t elude Gio’s notice; his lips curved into a knowing smirk, a testament to his astute perception.
Releasing any notion of awaiting approval, I reached out to clasp Leonardo’s hand, engaging in a handshake that transcended mere formality. Attempting to rekindle my memory, I retraced our shared history the last encounter likely dating back to a family gathering or, quite possibly, the somber backdrop of Gio’s father’s funeral. “Leonardo, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Wasn’t the last time we crossed paths at Agatone’s funeral?” I inquired, attempting to conjure a connection from the depths of my memory.
A shake of his head, his grip rigid within my own. “No, our last meeting was three years ago, when Gio felt compelled to intervene after I dared suggest a friendly sparring session with you at the gym.”
An incredulous amusement swelled within me, erupting into a laughter that punctuated his revelation. “Ah, that fateful day. I suppose that’s a memory you’d rather not cherish,” I mused aloud, a wry smile gracing my lips. How much had transformed since then the transition from boyhood to adulthood, from tentative vulnerability to a steely resolve that mirrored the very essence of a Made Man.
“No,” Leonardo’s response was resolute, his hand disengaging from the handshake. “It was a lesson I needed, one I’ve come to appreciate.”
Under Gio’s discerning gaze, Leonardo’s actions were scrutinized with a wariness that betrayed the depth of familial mistrust. It was clear that, unlike the unwavering trust he had bestowed upon Dario, Gio remained vigilant, a guardian of vigilance, where Leonardo was concerned. And yet, a palpable sense of security emanated from Gio’s endorsement an affirmation that wherever Leonardo’s loyalty lay, my safety remained paramount.
A genuineness echoed through my words, directed toward Leonardo. “I’m genuinely looking forward to getting to know you better,” I admitted, extending an invitation beyond the confines of formality.
A suggestion welled up within me, encouraged by Gio’s nod of approval. “Why not stay and join us for dinner?” The offer was extended spontaneously, intended to foster an environment conducive to familiarity. Yet, even as the invitation was extended, Leonardo’s dark gaze involuntarily sought Gio’s an unspoken deference that gnawed at my patience. However, such responses had become customary when dealing with Gio’s loyal enforcers.
Sebastian and Harper Gio’s other confidante soon joined our tableau, effectively transforming the moment into a familial gathering. Throughout the course of dinner, Leonardo exuded a palpable tension, a guarded restraint evident in his demeanor. Yet, despite the residual air of wariness, he managed to navigate the situation with tact, engendering a degree of comfort in my presence. It became increasingly apparent that his vigilant demeanor was born of duty, a safeguard for my well-being, and not necessarily a manifestation of personal intimidation.
As the evening unfolded, I began to perceive the layers beneath Leonardo’s exterior a young man weathered by the weight of his lineage, yet standing steadfast within the shadows cast by his past. Gio’s calculated selection had undoubtedly lent a sense of assurance, instilling a burgeoning trust within me a trust that, like Leonardo himself, was evolving and unfurling with each passing moment.