Chapter 3

The morning after their heated confrontation, Gianna wakes up early. The soft rays of the morning sun filter through the curtains of their shared bedroom, but she can't shake the weight of the night before. Luca's cold words echo in her mind, and the unresolved tension between them is like a live wire—always on the edge of snapping.

She stands at the window, looking out at the city below, feeling more like a stranger in her own life than ever before. This marriage, this agreement, it's not just a burden—it's a prison.

Gianna's thoughts are interrupted when her phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, she answers.

"Gianna Rossi," a voice says, smooth and low. It's a man's voice, and there's something vaguely familiar about it, but she can't place it. "We need to talk."

Before she can respond, the line goes dead.

Her heart skips a beat. Something in the voice sends a chill down her spine, and she's left with more questions than answers. Who was that? What did he want? And how does he know her name?

Later that afternoon, Gianna is at the Romano family estate. Luca's business dealings have kept him occupied all day, but Gianna's mind is consumed by the mysterious phone call. She wants to confront Luca, but something tells her that doing so would only open a Pandora's box of trouble.

Luca, meanwhile, doesn't seem bothered by her distance. He's used to the cold interactions and the lack of warmth between them. To him, this is all just a means to an end—a necessary transaction to secure his position in the mafia world.

As Gianna sits in a lavish sitting room, watching the parade of people coming and going for business meetings, she catches a glimpse of Luca's icy demeanor. He's discussing a deal with one of his lieutenants, but when their eyes meet, there's an unsettling look in his gaze.

His focus returns to the conversation, but Gianna can't shake the feeling that there's something more going on—something he's not telling her. A part of her knows that he has secrets. Luca Romano is a man built on power and deception, and she's now trapped in that web.

That evening, after another round of business meetings, Gianna steps out onto the terrace to clear her head. The cool night air is a welcome relief from the suffocating tension inside. She takes a deep breath, but her peace is shattered by the sound of footsteps behind her.

Turning quickly, she's startled to see a man emerging from the shadows. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a tailored black suit that marks him as someone important. He's not someone she recognizes, but there's an air of danger about him that sends a shiver down her spine.

He steps closer, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Gianna," he says, his voice low and smooth. "We need to talk."

She takes a step back instinctively, her pulse quickening. "Who are you?"

The man smirks, his smile predatory. "That's not important right now. What is important is the fact that you're married to Luca Romano."

Gianna's heart skips a beat. She's already put the pieces together—this is the same voice that called her earlier. She tries to remain calm, despite the alarm bells ringing in her mind. "What do you want?"

The man steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "I think it's time you learned the truth about your husband. The truth he's been hiding from you."

Before Gianna can react, the door opens behind her, and Luca's voice cuts through the tension.

"Marco, that's enough," Luca's voice is cold and commanding, and the man, Marco, steps back immediately, bowing his head slightly in deference.

Luca's eyes flicker with an emotion Gianna can't quite place, but it's enough to make her uneasy. "Gianna," Luca says, his tone slightly softer now, "are you all right?"

She nods quickly, though her mind is still reeling. Who is Marco? What is he talking about? And why did Luca's presence seem to disarm the man so easily?

That night, Gianna lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Luca is asleep beside her, his steady breathing a reminder of how little she knows about the man she's married. His body is a wall of tension even in sleep, his rigid posture betraying his need for control.

Her mind races with questions. What is Luca hiding? And why does Marco seem so certain that Luca's life—and their marriage—are based on lies?

The silence of the night is shattered by a sound from the living room. Gianna's heart skips a beat. She moves carefully, not wanting to wake Luca, and slips out of the room.

What she finds in the living room shocks her.

Luca is standing by the large window, his back to her, but he's not alone. A woman is sitting on the couch—a beautiful woman with dark, intense eyes. Her presence is electric, and she looks up as Gianna enters the room, her gaze meeting Gianna's with a strange mix of curiosity and something darker.

"Who is this?" Gianna demands, her voice sharper than she intended.

Luca doesn't turn around, but his voice is calm. "This is none of your concern, Gianna."

The woman stands, her movements fluid and graceful. She steps toward Gianna, a small, amused smile on her lips. "It's always a pleasure to meet the wife of such a powerful man," she says, her words laced with sarcasm.

Gianna's blood boils. Who is this woman, and what is her connection to Luca?

Gianna takes a deep breath, fighting to control her emotions. "Luca," she says, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. "What is going on? What are you hiding from me?"

Luca doesn't respond immediately. He simply stands there, his back still to her, as if considering his next words carefully. The silence between them stretches, unbearable and heavy.

Finally, he turns to face her. His eyes are cold, but there's something—something unreadable—lurking beneath the surface.

"You don't want to know the truth, Gianna," he says, his voice dark. "Trust me."

But the words only fuel the fire inside her. "Tell me," she demands. "I want to know everything."

Luca's gaze sharpens. "You're not ready for the truth," he says. And then, without another word, he walks out of the room, leaving Gianna standing alone in the darkness, her heart pounding in her chest.