Chapter 1 - The First Dance and The Open Threat
“You’re counting?” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Giovanni’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, though his amber eyes remained intensely focused. “I am a man who values precision, Jessica. Five seconds.”
Across the room, Tyler was still staring, his smug expression slowly curdling into confusion, then irritation. Beside him, Vanessa’s smile had vanished entirely. She whispered something to Tyler, her eyes drilling into the side of my face.
I looked at Giovanni’s extended hand. His palm was broad, calloused, and bore the quiet authority of a man who commanded empires. If I stayed at this table, I would spend the rest of the night suffocating in my own humiliation, a target for my mother’s disappointment and my ex-husband’s cruelty.
“Three seconds,” Giovanni murmured.
I took a deep breath, slid my hand into his, and stood up.
The moment my fingers touched his skin, a strange warmth rushed up my arm. Giovanni drew me instantly into his space. He didn’t just guide me toward the dance floor; he shielded me. His large frame effectively blocked Tyler’s view of me, creating a private sanctuary amidst the flashing lights and clinking glasses of the Bellmont Grand.
As we stepped onto the polished wood, his right hand settled firmly on the small of my back. He pulled me closer than decorum dictated, but it didn't feel predatory—it felt possessive. Protective.
“Relax, Jessica,” he murmured into my ear, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “You look like you’re marching to a firing squad.”
“I might be,” I whispered back, keeping my eyes fixed on the silver button of his vest. “You just lied to the entire room. And you still haven’t told me who you are.”
“I told you. Giovanni Fierro.”
“The older couple at Table Eleven looked like they saw a ghost when you said it.”
Giovanni guided us through a seamless turn. “My family has deep roots in Chicago. Not all of them are peaceful. But you don’t need to worry about that. Look at your ex-husband now.”
I peeked over Giovanni’s broad shoulder. Tyler had walked to the edge of the dance floor, holding a whiskey glass tightly. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. Vanessa was right behind him, her face flushed with anger as she realized the 'pitiful' single mother was suddenly the center of attention, held by the most imposing man in the room.
Suddenly, the elegant brunette Giovanni had mentioned earlier intercepted us. She was flanked by an older woman dripping in diamonds—clearly the aunt.
“Giovanni,” the older woman said, her voice like cracking ice. “What is the meaning of this? Who is this… person?”
Giovanni didn't stop dancing. He merely paused our movements, keeping his arm locked around my waist. “Aunt Victoria. Elena. I believe you haven’t met my wife, Jessica.”
Elena, the brunette, gasped, her eyes flashing with pure rage. “Your wife? Giovanni, you can’t be serious! You’ve been in Italy for three years. This is a joke.”
“I don’t joke about my family, Elena,” Giovanni said, his voice dropping an octave, turning deadly cold. “Jessica and I were married privately in Florence five months ago. She prefers to keep her personal life out of the Chicago papers. I suggest you respect her privacy.”
Victoria’s face turned pale. “Your father will hear about this, Giovanni. You cannot simply choose a woman from the streets to lead the Fierro name.”
“My father knows exactly who I choose,” Giovanni replied smoothly. “Now, if you will excuse us, my wife and I would like to finish our dance.”
Without waiting for a response, he spun me away, leaving them frozen on the edge of the floor. My heart was racing so fast I could barely breathe. “Florence? Five months ago? You’re a very good liar.”
“It’s not a lie if people believe it,” he said softly.
When the song ended, Giovanni didn't let go of my hand. Instead, he led me straight toward the exit. But before we could reach the doors, Tyler blocked our path. He looked drunk, fueled by wounded pride.
“Jess,” Tyler snapped, ignoring Giovanni entirely. “What the hell is this? Who is this guy? You’re playing games because you’re jealous of Vanessa and me.”
Giovanni stepped in front of me, his shadow completely eclipsing Tyler. The atmosphere around us instantly turned suffocating.
“Move,” Giovanni said. He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. The single word carried the weight of a death sentence.
Tyler scoffed, trying to puff out his chest. “Listen, pal, I don’t know who you think you are, but Jess is my—”
“Your what?” Giovanni interrupted, stepping closer until he was mere inches from Tyler’s face. The faint scar on Giovanni’s chin seemed to tighten. “You abandoned her. You insulted her career. You left your daughter. You are nothing to her. And if you speak to my wife again, I will personally ensure you lose that comfortable job your new father-in-law gave you. Do I make myself clear?”
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Tyler went completely pale. He looked into Giovanni’s amber eyes, and for the first time, he realized he wasn't dealing with a normal wedding guest. He backed down, swallowing hard, and stepped aside.
Giovanni turned back to me, his expression softening instantly. “Let’s get your cake, Jessica. It’s time to leave.”
