What He Wants

The sun was setting over the sprawling estate, casting a golden glow over the manicured gardens and the imposing stone facade of the mansion. Gia stood by the window in her bedroom, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the horizon. The gala was tomorrow, and the thought of attending such a high-profile event with Alvan filled her with a mix of dread and determination. She had to play her part, to maintain the facade of a dutiful wife, even as the weight of the secrets she carried threatened to crush her.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Javan standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"You should get some rest," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

Gia nodded, though she knew sleep would be impossible. "I'll try," she said, forcing a smile. "Thank you, Javan. For everything."

Javan hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Gia," he said, his voice low. "I need to tell you something. It's about Diego Ramirez."

Gia's heart skipped a beat. She'd heard the name before, whispered in hushed tones by her father's men. Diego Ramirez, the ruthless leader of the Juarez Cartel, was a man with a reputation for brutality, a man who held grudges and never forgot a slight but she had never met him. "What about him?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Javan's expression darkened. "He's here. In the city. And he's not happy."

Gia's stomach churned. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're in danger," Javan said, his voice heavy with concern. "Diego blames your father for the explosion that killed his family. He's been planning his revenge for years, and now that you're here, married into Alvan's family… you're the perfect target."

Gia's chest tightened, and she felt like she might be sick. "What does he want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He wants to hurt your father," Javan said. "And he's willing to go through you to do it."

---

The night was dark and heavy, the air thick with the scent of rain as it plummeted heavily outside. Gia sat in the library, a book open in her lap, though she hadn't turned a page in hours. Her mind was racing, her thoughts consumed by Javan's warning. She knew she should tell Alvan, but the thought of facing him, of admitting how vulnerable she was, filled her with dread.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up, her heart pounding as the door creaked open. But it wasn't Alvan or Javan. It was a man she didn't recognize—tall and broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that glinted with malice. He was dressed like one of the butlers in the mansion.

"Gia Salvatore," he said, his voice low and menacing. "We've been waiting for you."

Gia's breath caught in her throat, and she stood abruptly, the book falling to the floor with a loud thud. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice firm. She was very high on alert.

The man smiled, a cold, cruel smile that sent a chill down her spine. "Diego Ramirez sends his regards," he said, stepping further into the room. "He wanted me to deliver a message."

Gia's heart raced, and she took a step back, her hands clenched into fists. "What message?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man's smile widened, and he reached into his coat, pulling out a small, ornate box. He placed it on the table in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Open it," he said, his voice cold and commanding.

Gia hesitated, she placed a hand on her thigh, ready to pull out her dagger if she needed to. Her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the box. She opened it slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she saw what was inside—a single bullet, polished to a shine, with her name engraved on the side.

"Diego wanted you to know," the man said, his voice low and menacing. "This is just the beginning."

---

Gia's hands were still trembling as she stood in Alvan's study, the bullet clutched tightly in her hand. Alvan sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he listened to her recount what had happened.

"Diego Ramirez," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I should have known he'd make a move."

Gia's chest tightened, and she took a step forward, her eyes pleading. "Alvan, I don't know what to do. He's going to kill me. I need to reach out to my family."

Alvan's jaw tightened, and he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "He's not going to touch you," he said, his voice firm. "I won't let him."

Gia's heart skipped a beat at his words, but she couldn't shake the fear that gripped her. "How can you be sure?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Alvan crossed the room in two quick strides, his eyes blazing with determination. She took a step back and he stopped. He felt a pain in his chest, he couldn't tell if she hated him or she feared him.

"Because I'm not going to let him," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're my wife, Gia. And no one touches what's mine."

Gia's chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of hope. But it was quickly overshadowed by the fear that still gripped her. "What about the gala?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can't just cancel. It's too important."

Alvan's expression darkened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "We'll go," he said, his voice firm. "But we'll be careful. I'll have extra security, and I'll make sure you're protected."

Gia nodded, though she couldn't shake the unease that settled over her. "Thank you," she said, her voice trembling.

Alvan's expression softened, and he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder but he stopped and dropped his hand to his sides. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I promise."

---

Even after speaking to Alvan, sleep was far away from her. Gia stood on the balcony of her room, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the gardens below. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming roses and freshly cut grass. It was a rare moment of peace, one she desperately needed after the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had consumed her over the past few days.

Behind her, the door creaked open, and she turned to see Alvan stepping into the room. He looked as immaculate as ever, his tailored suit fitting him perfectly, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before. He glanced at her, his expression unreadable, before walking over to the dresser and pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"You should get some rest," he said, his voice low and measured. "The gala tomorrow is important. We need to make a good impression."

Gia turned back to the balcony, her fingers tightening around the railing. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood for a gala," she admitted. "Not after everything that's happened."

Alvan didn't respond immediately. She heard the clink of ice in his glass as he took a sip, then the soft thud of his footsteps as he walked over to join her on the balcony. He leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the manicured garden illuminated by florescent lights. It made it look almost magical in the night.

"We don't have a choice," he said finally. "This isn't just about us. It's about appearances. If we don't show up, it'll raise questions. Questions we can't afford."

Gia sighed, her shoulders slumping. She knew he was right, but the thought of putting on a smile and pretending everything was fine made her stomach churn. Still, she nodded. "I'll be ready."

Alvan glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "Good." He hesitated, then added, "You don't have to do this alone, you know. I'll be there with you."

Gia looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, she allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to navigate this mess together. But before she could respond, the sound of raised voices from the garden below caught her attention.

Gia and Alvan exchanged a glance before stepping closer to the edge of the balcony to get a better view. Below, a group of men were arguing with the guards at the gate. Even from this distance, Gia could see the tension in their postures, the way their hands hovered near their weapons.

"Who are they?" Gia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alvan's jaw tightened as he recognized the leader of the group. "Diego Ramirez," he said, his voice grim.

And if he was here, it could only mean one thing.

"He's here for me, isn't he?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Alvan didn't answer immediately. He turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Stay here," he said finally. "I'll handle this."

Before Gia could protest, he was gone, striding out of the room with a sense of purpose that left no room for argument. She watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to follow him, to demand answers, but something in his tone stopped her. Instead, she stayed on the balcony, her eyes fixed on the scene below.

Alvan emerged from the mansion, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as he approached the gate. The guards stepped aside as he approached, their hands still on their weapons. Diego Ramirez stood at the front of the group, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing on his lips.

"Alvan," Diego said, his voice dripping with mockery. "It's been a while. You've been keeping busy, I see."

Alvan didn't respond immediately. He studied Diego, his expression calm but his mind racing. He knew why Diego was here, and he knew what he wanted. But he also knew that giving in to Diego's demands wasn't an option.

"What do you want, Diego?" Alvan asked, his voice cold.

Diego's smirk widened. "What do I want? I want what's owed to me. Your little wife's family took something from me. Something precious. And now, I'm here to collect."

Alvan's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "Gia had nothing to do with what happened. She's innocent."

Diego laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that sent a chill down Gia's spine even from the balcony. "Innocent? Don't make me laugh. She's a Salvatore, isn't she? That makes her guilty in my book."

Alvan took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "If you lay a finger on her, you'll regret it."

Diego's smirk faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "Is that a threat, Alvan? Because if it is, you might want to think twice. You're not exactly in a position to make demands."

The tension between the two men was palpable, the air thick with the promise of violence. Gia's heart raced as she watched from above, her hands gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wanted to intervene, to do something, but she knew she'd only make things worse.

After what felt like an eternity, Diego finally stepped back, his smirk returning. "I'll give you until tomorrow," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "But after that, all bets are off. You'd better keep her close, Alvan. Because if I get my hands on her, there won't be anything left for you to protect."

With that, he turned and walked away, his men falling into step behind him. Alvan watched them go, his expression unreadable, before turning and heading back into the mansion.

Gia met him at the door, her eyes wide with fear and anger. "What was that about?" she demanded. "What does he want?"

Alvan didn't answer immediately. He walked over to the dresser and poured himself another glass of whiskey, his hands trembling slightly. "He wants revenge," he said finally. "Against your family. Against you."

Gia's stomach churned, and she sank into a chair, her legs suddenly unsteady. "What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alvan turned to her, his expression grim. "We're going to the gala tomorrow," he said. "And we're going to make sure everyone sees us together. If Diego thinks he can get to you, he's in for a surprise."

Gia looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "And after that?"

Alvan hesitated, then walked over to her, crouching down so they were eye level. "After that," he said, his voice soft but firm, "we'll figure it out. Together."

Gia's chest tightened at his words, and for the first time, she felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to navigate this mess together. "What happened to you?"

A strange emotion flashed in his eyes and he said nothing in response.

"Get some sleep, Gia."