3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gabo Godoy

T he day has finally arrived. I'll pick up Bella at the airport in an hour. I never thought she would accept my offer. She has become a gorgeous woman— bellissima. It'd be tough to keep all the bros at bay.

When did I decide that it was okay for me to become a babysitter? Fucking Luca… had to guilt trip me: "Bro, remember. She's my little sister. I've taken care of yours with my life. I hope you do the same."

My immediate thought was to tell him that it's different because he's actually married to my sister. But I couldn't say no, and he's an excellent husband to Kari. The least I could do was offer accommodations to Bella.

Maybe I'm overthinking this? I mean, I only agreed to give her a place to stay and make sure she's comfortable—not to be her bodyguard.

I park my Bugatti Chiron at my private hangar. Luca wanted to bring Bella himself, but I dismissed him and sent my Gulfstream G700 to get her instead. The moment I see her coming down the stairs, it's like my body floats toward her. In two seconds, I'm right at the bottom of the steps to help her down.

What am I now, a teenager who has never seen a pretty girl? But no, she's not a girl anymore. She turned out to be a gorgeous woman. For some reason, I don't want anyone to help her down but me.

Damn brain, enough with the whiplash.

"Oh, hi, Gabo. Thank you so much for picking me up. I thought you were going to send someone to get me," she says with a bright smile on her rosy, glossy lips.

I need to take a deep breath before replying and making an idiot of myself. I'm a thirty-year-old man, for fuck's sake. I shouldn't be here swooning like a schoolgirl.

" Bienvenida a Italia, " I say as I give her a peck on her cheek. "Your brother would have my balls if I'd have sent someone to pick you up. Besides, it's good to see you. I didn't think you were going to take me up on my offer."

Her smile falters for a microsecond, and if I wasn't so focused on her, I'd have missed it.

"Oh, of course. I guess you'll be my guardian while I'm here in Italy, even though I'm a full-grown adult. If it is too much inconvenience, I can always look for a place to stay," she says matter-of-factly, and I instantly like her resolve. "It's not a big deal. I'm sure you have plenty of matters to attend to," she adds as she starts walking toward a utility car where they have placed her luggage.

I simply shake my head. I like her spunk, maybe a little too much.

" Principessa , wait," I shout as I jog to catch up with her. She looks at me as if to say, "What did you just call me?" I chuckle. I've always liked strong-willed women, but I have a feeling Bella would give anyone a run for their money.

"Paolo will bring your luggage to either my apartment in the city, or my villa in the countryside. I figured I'd take you out to dinner tonight so you can get a feel for the city. My car is this way."

I point with my thumb in the direction where I parked my Bugatti. The moment her eyes find my car, her jaw hits the floor. I grab her gently by her elbow, and she falls in step beside me without saying a word.

When we get to my car, I open the door for her and ask, "Is everything okay?"

She shakes her head as she smiles and fixes her hair behind her ears. "Absolutely. I guess I'm just a little starstruck. That was my first time flying private. By the way, it was amazing. Thank you so much. And I don't think I've ever seen a car like this in real life."

I bark out a laugh as I help her inside and then jog to my side of the car. When I turn it on and the engine roars to life, I see a flicker of excitement in Bella's beautiful azure eyes.

"You're in for a treat, principessa." I floor the gas, and we dart out of the private hangar in a flash.

Usually, the women I take out in this car hang onto my arm like it's a lifeline, but Bella keeps her poise, almost impassive. Interesting.

I take a curve a little harder than I should to see if she'll finally show any emotion, but she surprises me. Instead of shrieking in terror, she throws her head back and laughs. I take it as a dare and fly through the streets, getting us to Verona—my favorite restaurant—in no time.

Once I park in front of the valet, she flashes me a wicked grin.

"That was fun," she says as she goes to open her door. I extend my arm to keep her door closed. She looks at me, confused.

As I get out of the car, I simply say, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Please, Bella. I need to open the door for you."

She shrugs easily and stays seated, waiting for me. When I reach her door, the valet kid opens it and extends his hand to Bella, but to my surprise, she stays seated.

Good girl .

When the kid notices me, he jumps out of his skin. If he's smart enough, he'll get lost as soon as I give him the key fob.

"Mr. Godoy, I didn't realize it was you," the kid says with a shaky voice. If I were alone, I'd laugh, but I don't want Bella to think I'm a prick.

"And how many Bugatti Chirons are in Bologna?" I ask as I take his place in front of the door. Bella steps out of the car, shaking her hair like a model in a commercial, leaving everyone nearby stunned by her looks. My dick perks up, and I take a deep breath to keep my lustful thoughts in check. I should have gotten laid or at least jerked off before picking her up.

Why the fuck am I behaving like a teenager with Bella?

I hear a collective gasp around us. Even though I have no claim on her, I feel ten feet taller knowing that she's here with me. I place my hand on the small of her back, and a shot of electricity spreads through me. I know she felt it too because goosebumps form all over her back.

Once we get inside, a smiling sommelier shows us to my table and leaves us with the menu. Bella gazes in awe at the stunning restaurant. Verona is a century-old—a pearl in downtown Bologna—and boasts a three-star Michelin chef.

"So they know you here?" Bella asks as she starts perusing the menu.

"I actually own this restaurant," I say as I take a sip of my tonic water.

"Of course you do," she mutters, and that piques my curiosity.

"What do you mean?" I ask, wanting to know her thoughts.

Instead of replying immediately, she takes her time. She sips her water and fixes her hair. This would usually annoy me—I'm an impatient man—but I'm actually enjoying the view. Bella is wearing a baby powder blue skirt paired with a matching top. All silk, the outfit is flowy and ethereal, just like her. Her hair cascades in waves midway down her back, and her makeup is minimal but accentuates the intensity of her eyes and her pouty lips. She takes a deep breath, and I can't help but notice the rise of her breasts—two perfect small mountains waiting to be worshiped.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter interrupts us, and just like that, the moment is gone.

"Actually, yes. I'd like to start with the octopus, then the lobster for the main course, and the orange and dark chocolate bonet for dessert. As for my drink, I'll go with whatever Mr. Godoy chooses," Bella says in perfect Italian. I raise a brow at her, pleasantly surprised by her language skills.

After ordering, the sommelier brings a bottle of my favorite wine. We toast, and I tell her, "Impressive. I didn't know you were fluent in Italian."

She chuckles at my compliment. "I mean, with my last name I had no choice."

I chuckle at her joke but press further. "Isn't that profiling? I've never been expected to speak Galician because of my last name."

She takes another sip of her wine. "Touché, but to be honest, I minored in Italian, French, and English at college. I figured they'd come in handy once I opened my gallery."

Oh, so that's her goal. I thought Luca was full of shit when he mentioned it. I feel like an asshole; I offered her my place for the summer and never spoke to her again. The only conversations I had about her trip were with my best friend.

"That's impressive, Bella. So your goal is to come to Europe, acquire art, and sell it in Santiago?" I ask, buying some time to find the right words for what I want to tell her next.

"Yes, that's the big picture. I actually would love to find immigrant artists who want to bring their art back home."

"Let's pause here. I feel we need to start this conversation over and, this time, do it right," I say.

"I'm sorry. I don't follow," she says, confusion evident on her beautiful face.

I give her a kind smile in hopes it'll erase her furrowing brow and let her know there's nothing wrong, per se. "I know I offered to be your host here. I'm truly pleased that you are here, and I know you'll make the best of your time. But instead of speaking directly with you to learn all these things from you, I kept in contact with your brother as if you were, indeed, a minor. And that's not right."

I take my glass in my hand, motion for her to do the same and start speaking again. "I would like to propose a toast to you, your ideas, and to having a summer to remember."

Bella's smile is blinding. "This means a lot to me, Gabo. I really appreciate you. Thank you."

We toast, and she passes her napkin over her mouth—it's a simple motion, but it brings my attention to her pouty lips.

The things those lips could do.

I clear my throat while trying to remove the thought as Bella starts speaking.

"I love my brother, and I'm very thankful for everything he and Karina have done for me. But sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating under his scrutiny."

It's the first time today that Bella has let me see her vulnerable side. Behind her bravado is a woman trying to make her voice heard and make her mark in the world.

I can definitely appreciate that.

"Being the middle brother was always a struggle to follow in Vicente's footsteps while still being true to myself, you know?"

Her eyebrows rise in question. "I thought being the middle brother was easy. I mean, you don't necessarily have to carry the family name. Didn't you mention this back in Alamo Peaks?"

A small laugh escapes me as the waiter arrives with the appetizers. "You're not wrong. I don't have to carry the Godoy last name into the next generation, but when you have a brother who fills the older brother's shoes so perfectly—responsible, disciplined, determined—you feel the need to live up to his greatness and not be in his shadow. Vicente is the perfect child, you know?" I tell her honestly.

"I can understand that, even though it took Luca meeting your sister to fully believe he could be as great as Gio." She takes a bite of her octopus and moans as she savors it.

Holy shit .

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make that sound. It's just so delicious."

She covers her mouth with her hand, and I notice a pink flush creeping up her chest. She's fucking bewitching. I take a bite out of the octopus and moan just like she did a moment ago. She barks out a laugh, and I'm not sure why, but I love that I made her laugh that hard.

The night continues, and we make easy conversation as we get to know each other a little better. After our second bottle of wine, I ask for the check. Bella tilts her head, her brow furrowing slightly.

"What? Do you think I eat for free here?" I smirk at her as I sign the bill. "This is a business. I need to treat it as such."

I give her a wink; her blush is back, and this time, it's closer to a dark red hue. I need to chill it out—the last thing I need is for her to think I'm hitting on her.

Do I want to hit on her?

Before I can even answer that, Luca's words come to mind, and that's all the answer I need: take care of his sister like he's taken care of mine.

As we make our way through the restaurant, I place my hand on the small of her back. When we get outside, I ask her, "Are you too tired to walk? My place is just a couple of blocks away."

She shakes her head and gives me a small smile. It's refreshing that she didn't make a big fuss about walking instead of driving. But we had two bottles of wine, and I'd rather not risk it with her in the car. I'd never put her in danger.