Gianna
“Yes. See if you can get him to eat more than a few bites of food.” Alessio scanned my face, his eyes lingering once more on my scratched cheek.
“This was a mistake.” Me. He meant I was a mistake because I was not the one he expected. But he and his family were also not what I expected.
There were so many things that needed to be fixed in this house. Daniele, the boy traumatized by his mother’s death and his father’s possible involvement. Simona, who cried the moment I touched her. Loulou who had never learned to be a family dog. And Alessio who was dealing with demons I had no idea about. Alessio ran his hand over his unkempt beard, then sighed.
“This is not one of the clothes I bought for you. You can’t wear it when you meet your bodyguards.”
I lowered my gaze. I was wearing black tights, a black pleated miniskirt with suspenders, and a yellow cashmere sweater. It wasn’t luxurious, but certainly nice enough for a day at home.
“I don’t see why I have to dress nice for them.” Alessio’s eyes flashed.
“Gianna, don’t try my patience. Not right now. I got married, but that doesn’t mean I would have another stubborn daughter to deal with.”
Gritting my teeth for a snappy comeback, I turned around. I didn’t want to argue with Alessio, but I wasn’t going to change into one of those tacked-on clothes when there was absolutely no reason to do so.
I didn’t go far. An arm wrapped around my stomach and pulled me abruptly back, so I was pressed against a hard body.
Alessio’s palm pressed against my belly, holding me in place as he bent down.
“Now you will change.” The low command vibrated through my body in a way that excited and frightened me.
“What is your problem?”
“My problem is that you keep disobeying me and your skirt is too short when I’m not around.” I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
Even my mother had never considered my clothes too daring or sexy, and she was conservative. The miniskirt might have been short, but the tights were opaque, and my sweater certainly didn’t scream sexy vamp.
“I’m not kidding,” Alessio growled. I laughed again.
“You’re being unreasonable.” Alessio spun me around, one arm around my waist, the other cupped over the back of my head.
It was not an intimate, affectionate gesture. It was dominance. “Don’t fight me on this. Not this. I will not have you with men in that skirt when I am not with you. Understand?”
Her eyes burned with angry possession. I probably would have said more, but the sound of Daniel playing reminded me that he was in the room behind us.
“Understood,” I said. “Now let me go.” He took a step back. I turned and went to our bedroom to change.
When I came down the stairs in long black pants and a loose blouse tucked into my belt, Alessio nodded smugly. I felt like I was wearing a costume. The clothes were uncomfortable.
It wasn’t me. “My men are waiting in my office to meet you.”
“What about Simona? Where is she?” “With Sybil in the kitchen. After I introduce you to your bodyguards, you have to bring Daniele down here. He can’t stay in his room all day.”
“I need to go clothes shopping. There is nothing that fits him.”
“Then do it. Domenico and Elia will accompany you.”
With his hand on my back, he led me down the hallway to a massive wooden door. As we passed the room where Loulou was locked up, she barked, causing Alessio’s expression to stiffen once again. His office offered a breathtaking view of the gardens, beautifully maintained as if they belonged to a mansion in the English countryside and not a family home.
It did not look as if the garden had been used at all. Two men sat in wide armchairs in front of an elegant oak desk. Both stood up, the second Alessio and I entered the room. Alessio held his hand on my back as he nodded to the older man:
“This is Domenico.” The man looked to be in his 60s with short gray hair. He looked like he had served in the army: straight back, perfectly pressed shirt, no-nonsense expression.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Moretti.”
Mrs. Moretti. I cast a glance at Alessio, my husband. He hadn’t really rooted yet, not really.
“And this is Elia.” My gaze followed my husband’s, toward the second man, and he was the exact opposite of Domenico. First of all, he was young. He was in his mid-twenties at most.
He had wavy light brown hair that was slicked back. His clothes accentuated a muscular body, and his smile came quickly. He was easygoing, almost charming, but with the necessary respect.
“Nice to meet you.” Alessio looked at me.
“Nice to meet you too,” I said quickly. I was surprised. Domenico was exactly what I expected my bodyguards to be, considering how jealous Alessio was.
Elijah definitely was not. Perhaps this explained why Alessio did not want me to wear a miniskirt.
Yet it seemed unlikely that he would choose a man as my bodyguard whom he absolutely did not trust.
Alessio lived by control. He was confident in his power. Or perhaps he wanted to confirm the extent of his control, and this was his test. The question was, who was he testing? Elijah or me.
Alessio left shortly after introducing me to my new bodyguards. I thought he might have breakfast with me and the children, but apparently he never did.
It made me flinch when he leaned in for a goodbye kiss. I didn’t think he was the kind of man for public displays of affection, but maybe that kiss was meant to show dominance. Still, his lips on mine were pleasant.
When the front door closed behind him, I stood in the lobby, feeling a little lost. I could feel Elijah and Dominic’s eyes on me as they hovered a few steps beside me, waiting for orders.