38. Gigi

38

GIGI

"Are you sure it's going to be fine?"

Stephano is holding my hand where we're sitting in the back seat of his SUV. His driver will drop us off at the entrance of the high rise where the Kowalski's Fine Art exhibition space is located on the top floor. There's an adjacent wine bar and restaurant, and apparently, this is the place to be seen on the East Coast art scene.

"Yes, we have a security detail looking out for us."

The driver pulls up to the building, and Tony clambers out to open the door. Stephano holds out his hand for me and helps me out of the car. I'm wearing a long, flowing dress with a halter neck and a low back in midnight blue chiffon, with silver heels.

Getting dressed for tonight hit me with intense nostalgia. This is the first time in months I got dressed up to go somewhere, and Steph arranged for some boutique to come over with dresses and shoes for me to choose from.

When he caught me on my laptop staring at this exhibition opening tonight, he suggested we go. I was almost in tears. Not that he hasn't suggested we go out before—he always wants to take me out for dinner or to one of their clubs—but right now, I don't have it in me. This is something I can't miss. Alejandro Reyes is up and coming, and getting in with him at the start of his career is gold.

I haven't given up on my business yet. I've put it on hold. Once Franco is dead, there will be a way to prove the whole smear campaign was a scam. I will need time, and to be in Europe, so I can meet people in person.

We make our way to the elevator, and I can't be sure who is our security detail. There are other couples in suits and formal dress entering the building, creating a pile-up at the elevator bank.

"Busy night." I'm jittery with excitement I can't suppress. This is like having a slice of my old life back, except this time, it's better. I have Steph by my side.

"Yeah. You'll see there's enough space. The exhibition area is massive and very well laid out."

"You've been here before?" I ask as I shoot him a glance, but then, it sinks in. "Of course you have. To make sure it's safe?"

"To buy some art, angel, and eat at the restaurant—" He leans into my ear as he squeezes my hand. "Like normal people."

He slides his lips over my ear, and it sends a rush of goose bumps down my skin where it spreads hot desire through my body. This man… Steph has been the perfect husband in so many ways, I've stopped keeping track.

I lean closer, his solid body always there for me, and he wraps an arm around me and caresses my butt. His gun presses against my arm, and a shudder runs through me. There must always be a little reminder why we're not normal people .

We ride up to the top floor, and Steph has me in the corner, his body protecting me. Tony is next to us, his eyes looking lazily at the other people in the elevator, but I'm not fooled. Il Consiglio is a well-run, tight ship, and Tony is taking stock of every person here. I'm safe.

I exhale slowly as we reach the top floor and file out to the foyer where a hostess greets and directs the line to either the restaurant and wine bar, or to the art gallery. Steph's hand is on my lower back, guiding me to the bigger open space. All white with perfect lighting to accentuate the art on the walls and the sculptures taking space center stage.

I rest my hand on his arm, almost giddy.

"Thank you so much for bringing me," I whisper as I glance up at him.

He covers my hand with his. "Any time, angel."

We walk the exhibit together for a while, and I'm lost in a world I've found again. Nothing can kill my joy now. Steph's comments are interesting, but I have no reason to be surprised. His love for art is displayed on the big wall in his apartment. I pull my phone out to start making notes, and Steph strays onward to the next piece.

I'm so deep in thought with my notes that I don't take stock of the suit that comes to stand close to me.

"Sorry," I say as I step to the side to make space, but an Arctic chill invades my body as I glance at the man's profile.

"Fancy seeing you here, Gigi." He steps closer and touches me on my lower back as if he would lean in and kiss me like a sister.

A frisson of disgusted loathing mixed with fear spills like a bucket of cold water over me.

"Cenzo." I falter on my heels as I step away, gripping my clutch tight as my heart starts pounding in my temple.

"So sweet to hear you call me that." Vincenzo steps closer, and it's the most threatening thing I've experienced in years. "I've missed you, Gigi."

My gaze darts over his shoulder and to the side. Steph is right there, rolling on his heels, five meters from me, unaware. Tony is watching me, though, and would step up—but there's another man who closes in and blocks his way. God help us. Vincenzo has security here too.

"How did y-you…how did you know where to find us?"

How did he know I'd be here tonight? Fear coils in me. Since that Friday night in Lake Como, I've realized my stepbrother is a vile, dangerous man.

"Following leads. You're not the only one with friends." He reaches for my hand, and I'm too weak to pull back, frozen to the spot. "And what's this? A wedding ring?"

"I'm married. I'm no longer available for Franco Fiore."

"Are you now?" He cocks his brow with a lopsided grin as if I made a joke. "To whom?"

"Steph!" I jerk my hand out of Vincenzo's, trying to catch Stephano's attention without making a scene. He turns my way, but doesn't rush over, and panic sprints through my veins.

"Steph? That was a bit hasty, wasn't it?' Vincenzo says. "To think if you married me when you turned eighteen, none if this would have happened."

"I would never have married you," I spit out. "And to think you sold us off! Carla, so young and your own blood sister."

And then, Stephano is there. His hand snakes around my shoulders. "Do you know this guy, angel?"

" Angel ?" Vincenzo mocks as his gaze jumps between mine and Stephano's. "Franco did say someone else called you that before. A lover, maybe, but never a husband ."

He holds out his hand to Stephano as if this is a cordial meeting, but Stephano doesn't return the gesture. He gives Vincenzo the coldest stare that makes me cower.

"And you are?" he says as he reaches for Vincenzo's shoulder, gripping it with a hand that turns white with the pressure. A subtle threat.

Vincenzo shrugs him off with a wince. "Vincenzo Trapani. Gigi and Carla's brother. I came to fetch my soon-to-be-widowed sister."

"Isn't that interesting," Steph says. "And here I thought we're here for a pleasant night out."

"I'm cutting this marriage venture of yours short, as my sister Gigi has been promised to another man. I'm here to take her home. Come with me now, Gigi, and it will be a clean exit."

"I see," Stephano says, staring Vincenzo down. He's at least seven inches taller than my stepbrother. "Funny thing. I don't like threats. Least of all to my wife. Touch your sister again, and I'll kill you."

"As if this is a real marriage." Vincenzo smirks. "I hate to say it, but you're in too deep."

Stephano throws his head back and laughs. "Right. Come, angel, you've seen enough?"

Tremors run through my body, and I'm clinging to Steph's biceps where I've turned into him, expecting a Mafia-style shoot-out at any second.

"Yes," I say, but my voice is small.

He has me by the hand and leads me away, but he isn't in a rush. I want to run.

"There's no way he is buying into any of this," I whisper. "He knows it's all fake! He knows, and he's going to tell Franco, and then?—"

Stephano stops in his tracks outside the glass partition wall separating the gallery from the elevator bank. He stares down at me for a few hot seconds, his gaze taking in my eyes, my lips, and then he jerks me to his chest, his arm protective around me as his hand weaves into my hair that cascades down my back. He's never held me this close.

"You're worried Vincenzo will think our marriage is fake and that's the biggest factor in warding off Franco?"

"Yes, I know it sounds naive but— He's threatened to kill you!" I almost choke on the words.

When did this happen? The idea of Stephano being killed is too much, and I ache. Tears I've managed to ward off slip down my cheek, and Stephano cups my jaw, brushing them away with his thumb. I swear he can feel my heart beating against his chest. I'm faint with the shock of seeing Vincenzo here and the fact that Steph might die.

"Your biggest worry is that Vincenzo will think this is a fake marriage?"

"Yes… The idea was to make it seem real, to stop Franco, to get out?—"

"It's very real, angel," he interrupts as he rakes his fingers into my hair, pulling down and forcing me to look up at him. "If only you would open your eyes to see the truth."

His mouth hovers for a second over my lips, and then he kisses me, his lips possessive and demanding. His mouth opens mine as I moan into the unapologetic way he invades me. Stephano deepens the kiss, and now, my heart is all over the place. Pulsing in my sex where I contract wantonly for him as his hands splay over my butt and squeeze. I wrap my arms around him, legs weak with the surprise and intensity of his kiss as his tongue conquers my mouth. He grips me closer and steadies me to him.

Oh, God. I've wanted this so much. I've needed this for so long. We've been so good at keeping to those terms we set out, but I know tonight, we are going to break every last vow we've made. I need us to make this real because I'm in love with my husband.

Stephano pulls away.

"Fuck," he groans. "I've been wanting to do that since the first day on your yacht in Cannes." He presses into my lower belly, making me feel the need he has for me. "Let's go," he says, his voice husky.

"Vincenzo?"

"He's being taken care of."

I glance through the glass wall to see four suited men surrounding Vincenzo, blocking him from following us. Our gazes meet, and a shudder rips through me. Another man is standing too close to a guy with a scar on his cheek; he must have him at gunpoint. Tony is standing by the elevators, mere meters from us, his lazy gaze not missing a thing.

"Has this been a set-up?" I ask as we get into the elevator.

"I told you to trust me," Stephano says as he turns his shoulder so most of my body is blocked with my back against the wall.

He reaches for my hand, and his callused fingers lace with mine. I stare down at our hands where he's holding mine close.

He didn't show an inch of fear or doubt, every movement, every word so controlled, it was as if they were rehearsed.

As soon as we're in the car and the driver pulls away, he leans closer. "Our men will take Vincenzo to an undisclosed location. There, he'll help us learn everything else about Franco Fiore that we don't already know."

My stomach turns as his words sink in. Vincenzo might not live to see tomorrow. I have no idea what Stephano is capable of. To think I doubted him when I came here—actually doubted his ability to be cruel. But this… This was something else.

I was wrong about Stephano Scalera, and not for the first time.