Chapter 4

I watched in partial awe and shock as Giovanni stepped out of the vehicle, and then turned to offer me a hand. A wry smile curved my lips as I accepted his hand, dropping my left leg first and then my right.

The moment my heels made contact with the hard floor, and I tried to move, it felt like the ground was slipping from underneath me and I wobbled weakly. 

These damn stilettos. 

I felt warmth around my waist, and he pulled me into his chest. For a moment, my heart stopped. My fingers involuntarily fisted the front of his chest, and I swallowed,

"Easy there, love," He whispered, his dark eyes twinkling with something different, "We could trade the heels for something simpler." 

What the heck? Why was my heart racing like this? 

I wasn't thinking when I pushed him off, stumbling backward. He gave me a strange look, his brow arching suspiciously and I tried to smile but it was weak. 

He was still staring at me when someone walked out of the lavish building in front of them. The man was dressed in a midnight blue tuxedo, and a gold cravat that sat proudly in his front pocket. 

"Mr. Orlando! We've been awaiting you, welcome."

Giovanni looked away from me but not before eyeing me skeptically. I desperately prayed under my breath, hoping he wouldn't sense anything wrong. 

I was able to properly look at the building, and to say that I was starstruck is an understatement. I thought it was just a simple night out, but come to think of it, nothing was simple about the man. 

"Come on in, we've been expecting you." 

Giovanni returned his hand to my lower back, guiding me into the restaurant, and I tried hard to not stiffen at his touch. 

The moment we stepped inside, my breath was once again stolen from me.

This is a restaurant? My eyes were wide with astonishment as I took in the crystal chandeliers, the high rise massive pillars, and the soft golden lighting.

"We're so honored to have you tonight, Mr. Orlando," The man showing them around continued with enthusiasm, "We reserved the best table in the house, cleared it the moment we got the call." 

Giovanni shot me a look, and I offered a small smile, but my mind was racing. Everything about this screamed power,

From the way people parted when he walked, to how the staff looked at me like I was some goddess just for being on his arm. 

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my heart was racing too much for me to contain. For a brief moment, I wondered how Dahlia coped with all of this luxury,

Although my sister was the more refined one out of the both of us, there was no denying that even this was beyond their capacity. It felt like I had fallen into a romance novel and he was my prince charming. 

We finally settled at an intimate table tucked into the far corner of the luxurious restaurant. Giovanni stepped behind me, and pulled out the chair. 

"Thank you," I murmured, smoothing down my dress as I sat. 

He took the seat opposite mine, his sharp gaze still fixed on me. I couldn't help the way my eyes wandered around, like a child who'd just discovered a treat,

"What do you think?"

I exhaled, returning my gaze to him, "It's beautiful, I've never imagined coming to a place like this."

He chuckled, his dark eyes sparkling and I wondered if that was something Dahlia would say. Looking at him now, I couldn't deny that he was a good-looking man. 

His dark hair sat atop his head with smooth curls, and a face that rivaled any Greek god I know. The five o'clock shadow matched his sharp jawline, and the chin dimple almost made my heart stutter. His Cupid-bow shaped lips almost made me weep with envy,

I never realized a man's mouth could be that plump and pink. I almost cowered in shame, his looks greatly outmatched my own.

But his eyes. They were what mesmerized me, although they looked like pools of dark coal, looking at him under the light, I could see hints of brown in them. 

I gripped my clutch purse in an effort to steady myself. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why he was so smitten by my sister. 

I wouldn't deny that she wasn't beautiful, after all we were mirror images of each other. But someone like him should be with a lady in his league,

An actress, or a model, or even a heiress. Not your run-of-the-mill Brooklyn girl. It just didn't make any sense. 

 The host returned, breaking their state and I briefly caught a smirk on his face. My face instantly reddened,

He probably knew that I was ogling him. For the umpteenth time that evening, I inwardly smacked myself in the head. 

"For tonight's main course, we'll be serving wild mushroom risotto with parmesan polenta on the side, and for desserts, we have molten chocolate lava cake and crème brûlée-"

I zoned out after that, barely hearing the rest of the word. My eyes were fixed on the host's mouth, trying to make sense of the fancy names but it sounded like gibberish.

I didn't want to look like an idiot, so I nodded, hoping that it looked like she was following along. 

Giovanni's voice suddenly interrupted, "We'll start with the beef carpaccio with truffle oil. And a bottle of the '97 Chianti." His eyes didn't leave mine.

The host bobbed his head, bowed, and walked away. Did he realize that I was floundering in the air? Another wave of heat crept on my face, and I shifted on my seat,

He was probably angry? Or disgusted by her lack of finesse? Or-

"I understand that this must all be new to you, love. But with time you'll get used to it."

I blinked, at a complete loss for words. I'd expected him to say a lot of things, but never this. 

Was this the brutal mafia boss my father had described? 

I barely had time to catch my breath before he rose from his seat and stepped beside me. My eyes grew wide when he leaned forward, our foreheads nearly touching. 

One hand reached up, his fingertips brushing the side of my mouth. I was frozen in my spot, unable to move,

"There," His voice was smooth, like butter, "You had lipstick." 

His thumb lingered for a second too long. The heat of his touch burning deeper than it should have as their eyes locked. 

I couldn't do it anymore. Maybe I was wrong, and he truly loved my sister. Maybe Dad was just overreacting. 

From everything I'd seen so far, he wasn't as scary as they painted him to be. 

"Giovanni," I whispered, and he hummed, gesturing that he was listening.

I had to tell him. He deserved to know the truth. I was fake, and the woman he truly loved was dead. He deserved to know.

"I have something to tell you."

He nodded in encouragement, "Go ahead, love. I'm listening."

I gulped, my throat suddenly going dry, "Well-"

"Boss!"

Someone yelled, interrupting the moment. Giovanni grunted, but turned around. It was one of the bodyguards that'd followed us here, he made a small gesture with his hand and Giovanni nodded in understanding. 

"Excuse me, my love. I'll be just a minute."

I bobbed my head, and he leaned forward to kiss my forehead.  I watched as he walked away, disappearing into one of the hallways. 

My resolve was made already, I would tell him the truth.