Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

Gianna

I reluctantly led Dimitri out of my bedroom, my heart thumping like a trapped bird in my chest. Every shadow seemed to hide a potential threat. But as we stepped into the empty hallway, I exhaled a shaky sigh of relief, my tense muscles slowly unwinding. My body still hummed with the afterglow of our lovemaking, a delicious soreness lingering between trembling thighs.

Dimitri slipped around me with feline grace, his eyes glinting with mischief. "You're not trying to be my shield, are you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"No, of course not." The lie tumbled out of my mouth, tasting bitter on my tongue. Dimitri's knowing smirk told me that he wasn't buying it for a second .

"I just…I just don't want you to get hurt. Angelo and Enzo are?—"

"Big bad villains? Cutthroats?" He brushed his lips over mine, the ghost of a kiss. "Me?" His breath tickled my skin, making my knees weak.

"Be serious," I muttered, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach.

He ran his finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "I am. Now, show me your beautiful home." His voice was light, but there was an undercurrent of something I couldn't place. He was putting on a good show, but I suspected he was just as nervous as I was running into Angelo.

I clasped his hand, relishing the coolness of his skin, and led him down the hallway. "Well, all the bedrooms are on the second floor, as is Angelo's office."

"How many bedrooms are there?" Dimitri's eyes scanned every detail of our surroundings.

"Including mine, there's six."

"Who all has bedrooms?" His casual tone didn't quite match the intensity of his gaze.

I rattled off the list, watching his face for reactions. When I mentioned the security team's accommodations, a sly grin spread across his face.

"Is that where I'll stay since I'm the chauffeur?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Before I could respond, his attention snapped to the closed doors lining the hallway. "Which one is Angelo' s office?"

An uneasiness quivered in my gut as I pointed to it. "That one. You can only go in there if you're invited."

He flashed me a teasing smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Otherwise, you become sushi."

"I'm serious, Dimitri," I gritted my teeth. The mere thought of him snooping around in there froze my blood.

"Angelo doesn't let anyone in there without his permission, including me. Please don't go in there. That would set him off like a raging volcano. He'll come after you and I'll be powerless to stop him."

I gently tugged on Dimitri's arm, leading him away from Angelo's office before he got too curious. He'd get more than a beating for invading Angelo's privacy and the thought made my stomach churn.

Dimitri's smirk played on his lips. "Don't worry, princess. Being burned by lava isn't on my agenda." His brown eyes twinkled with mischief. "Though I have to say, all this secrecy does make a guy wonder. What's big bad Angelo hiding in there? His teddy bear collection? His diary? A shrine to his own reflection?"

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. Trust Dimitri to make light of even the most serious situations. "I'm serious, Dimitri. Angelo would do more than just beat you if you went in there."

"Relax," he said, draping an arm over my shoulders. "I value my devastatingly handsome face too much to risk it. Besides," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I'm much more interested in exploring other... areas of the house." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively .

I swatted his arm playfully, grateful for the levity even as worry gnawed at me. As we moved on, I couldn't shake the feeling that Dimitri's eyes had lingered on that door a moment too long. But that was ridiculous, right? He wouldn't risk Angelo's wrath... would he?

As we descended the stars, I continued the tour, hyperaware of Dimitri's every movement. When I mentioned the library, his eyebrow shot up with interest.

"Library?" The word rolled off his tongue like he was savoring it.

"Angelo's private library. He doesn't let people go in there without permission."

"Interesting," Dimitri mused, his eyes glinting.

I sighed. "Angelo has several rooms that are off limits, including the dungeon."

His steps faltered, his intense gaze boring into me. "That part scares you?"

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the knot of fear in my gut. "The mafia isn't an easy gig, Dimitri. There's always someone who wants to be on top or wants to get even."

"Like the wolves," he said softly, his voice laced with an emotion I couldn't quite identify.

The mention of the wolves made my skin prickle with unease. I found myself unconsciously leaning closer to Dimitri, seeking comfort in his presence, even as a small voice in the back of my mind wondered just how deep into this dangerous world I was pulling him.

Dimitri slid his fingers through my hair. "I promise you that those little fur balls will never touch you again." His touch ignited a paradoxical reaction in my body. A cool tingle raced across my skin, immediately chased by a wave of warmth that seemed to bloom from within. This simultaneous chill and fire left me breathless, my nerves singing with conflicting sensations.

The moment was broken as Elena emerged from the kitchen, the scent of her cooking wafting around her like a delicious cloud. She was dressed in a floral dress with a crisp white apron, looking every bit the maternal figure she'd become to me. " Mon chère and monsieur ," she greeted us warmly. "I have prepared lunch. You must both be hungry."

She accepted Dimitri as my mate and she always stood by me no matter what. Something I would never forget.

My stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. The aroma of fresh-baked bread and Elena's famous fried chicken filled my nostrils, making my mouth water instantly. I glanced up at Dimitri, tugging gently on his hand. "Come on, let's eat."

Dimitri's lips quirked into that trademark smirk of his. "How could I say no to the wonderful cook who's been feeding me? I mean, a man's got to keep up his strength, especially around here."

As we entered the dining room, my stomach, which had been doing happy flips at the prospect of food, suddenly plummeted. Angelo and Enzo sat at the table, looking for all the world like they'd been waiting for us.

Angelo's smile reminded me of a cat that had just cornered a particularly juicy mouse. "Well, my chauffeur has finally emerged," he purred, gesturing toward the laden table. "Please, both of you, sit. After lunch, Enzo and I have meetings that you need to take us to."

My body tensed, anger bubbling up inside me. "Seriously, Angelo?" I folded my arms, trying to keep my voice steady.

Angelo dabbed his mouth with a napkin, his eyes never leaving mine. "Isn't he my chauffeur, Gianna?" His quiet voice carried a clear warning—there was only one acceptable answer.

Before I could retort, Dimitri stepped forward, executing a slight bow that was just a hair too exaggerated to be respectful. "Anywhere you'd like to go, boss," he said, his voice dripping with barely concealed sarcasm. I rubbed my forehead. It was as if Dimitri wanted a rematch.

Stupid Stupid Stupid

He put his hand on my lower back. "Gianna was just showing me the lay of the land. You know, secret passages, hidden treasure, the usual."

Angelo's eyes narrowed. "Good, then you know where you can and can't go. You'll take a room with the other men over the garage."

Fury surged through me, hot and sudden. "Unacceptable, Angelo," I spat. "He stays with me, or we both leave."

Angelo leaned back in his chair. "And where would you go?"

I stuck out my chin. "Back to Salem."

Enzo chuckled, rubbing his forehead as if we were all giving him a headache. "I told you she would never go for it. "

"Fine," Angelo conceded, his voice clipped. "Then you'll marry my sister. I assume you have no objections." His gaze locked onto Dimitri, challenging him.

I gasped, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. How could Angelo do this? Take away something so special, so personal?

Dimitri's hand found mine, his cool fingers intertwining with my own. He turned to me, his eyes softening as they met mine. "Not exactly how I wanted this to go down," he said, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of steel. "But you're my mate, and marriage is part of the gig. Plus, I do love a good party."

My heart ached, a mix of love for Dimitri and anger at Angelo warring within me. Once again, my brother had taken away my choice, just as he had when he turned me. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "You don't have to do this," I whispered to Dimitri.

Dimitri's trademark smirk returned, but his eyes remained soft as they gazed into mine. "No one makes me do anything I don't want to do," he declared, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Not even a villain with a penchant for dramatic declarations. I claimed you, Gianna. You belong to me, and making it official?" He paused for effect, his smirk widening. "Well, let's just say it warms my heart. And hey, who doesn't love a good vampire wedding, right? I hear they're all the rage this season."

Suddenly, Dimitri's eyes glinted with mischief. My heart skipped a beat as he dramatically dropped to one knee, the movement so fluid it seemed almost choreographed. The room fell silent, the tension as edgy as a deer stepping out into a meadow.

"Gianna Santi," he proclaimed, his voice carrying that signature blend of sarcasm and sincerity that only Dimitri could manage, "will you marry me?" He winked, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "I promise I'll get you a ring, the biggest one in New Orleans. We're talking need-sunglasses-to-look-at-it big."

My breath caught in my throat. A whirlwind of emotions swept through me—joy, confusion, and a touch of suspicion. Was this genuine, or just another performance for Angelo and Enzo's benefit? My eyes darted between Dimitri's earnest face and my brother's stoic expression.

Elena chose that moment to bustle into the room, her gasp of surprise cutting through the tension. " Mon Dieu !" she exclaimed, her hands flying to her cheeks in delight.

I felt all eyes on me, waiting. The weight of expectation pressed down on my shoulders. But as I looked into Dimitri's eyes, I saw something beyond the usual mischief—a flicker of vulnerability, of hope.

"Yes," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. Then, finding my strength, I spoke louder. "I'll marry you."

As Dimitri rose to his feet, I turned to face Angelo. My gaze locked with his, intensity radiating from every fiber of my being. "That way," I said, my voice steady and determined, "no one will rip us apart."

The words hung in the air, a challenge and a promise. I felt Dimitri's arm slide around my waist, his touch both possessive and supportive. My body instinctively leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence.

Dimitri, never one to let a moment pass without commentary, grinned at Angelo. "Well, brother-in-law," he drawled, "looks like you're stuck with me. Don't worry, I promise to be the most entertaining chauffeur-slash-husband this family's ever seen. Now, who's up for a celebratory drink?"