Chapter 3 - The Makeover and the Trap
Moving into Giovanni’s eighty-story penthouse in the Gold Coast was like stepping onto another planet. The transition was swift and absolute. Within forty-eight hours, my one-bedroom apartment was packed up by professional movers, and Lily was enrolled in the most exclusive private kindergarten in the city.
Giovanni was a man of his word. He did not treat me like an employee; he treated me like a queen. My closet was suddenly filled with bespoke designer gowns, cashmere sweaters, and shoes that cost more than my car. But the most shocking part of my new life wasn't the wealth; it was how seamlessly Giovanni integrated himself into our routine.
He didn't just tolerate Lily; he adored her. The ruthless CEO who struck fear into boardrooms would sit on the plush Persian rug in his tailored trousers, drinking imaginary tea out of tiny plastic cups with my five-year-old daughter. Lily, who had never known a father's love, attached herself to him instantly, calling him "Gio" and demanding he read her bedtime stories.
Three weeks into our arrangement, Giovanni announced it was time for our official social debut.
The annual Chicago Architectural Gala was the social event of the season, and Giovanni’s company was the primary sponsor. I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the master bedroom, staring at a stranger. I wore a backless, emerald-green silk gown that clung to my curves like liquid glass. My hair was swept into an elegant chignon, and resting against my collarbone was a diamond necklace that Giovanni had casually fastened around my neck ten minutes earlier, claiming it was a "wedding gift."
"You look breathtaking," Giovanni murmured, stepping up behind me. He placed his hands gently on my bare hips, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. The air between us had grown thick and heavy over the last few weeks, the line between fake and real blurring dangerously every time he touched me.
"I feel like an imposter," I admitted, my heart fluttering.
He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of my neck. "You are Jessica Fierro. The only woman in this city who owns me. Remember that tonight."
When we arrived at the gala, the flashing of paparazzi cameras was blinding. Giovanni kept a protective arm around my waist, guiding me through the sea of Chicago's elite.
It didn't take long for the trap to spring.
We were standing near the champagne fountain when a painfully familiar, nasal voice cut through the music. "Jessica? Is that... is that really you?"
I turned. Tyler stood there, wearing a rented tuxedo, looking completely bewildered. Beside him, Vanessa was practically glowing green with envy, her eyes darting aggressively over my diamonds and the custom silk of my dress.
"Hello, Tyler," I said, my voice cool, steady, and dripping with an unbothered elegance I had learned from watching Giovanni.
"What are you doing here?" Tyler demanded, stepping closer, entirely ignoring Giovanni. "I thought your cousin's wedding was a fluke, a setup to make me jealous. But you're actually with him? Do you have any idea what kind of man he is? He just gutted my firm, Jessica!"
"I am aware of my husband's business acquisitions," I replied smoothly, taking a sip of my champagne.
Vanessa stepped forward, her smugness returning. "Husband? Please. He's a billionaire, Jessica. You're a nurse who buys clothes at Goodwill. He's playing with you. He'll throw you away the second he gets bored, just like Tyler did."
Before I could respond, Giovanni’s hand tightened on my waist. The temperature in the immediate vicinity dropped to absolute zero.
"Mr. Brooks," Giovanni said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that caused Tyler to physically flinch. "I suggest you teach your wife some manners before I decide that gutting your firm isn't enough, and I decide to blacklist your name from every architectural project in North America."
Tyler went pale, grabbing Vanessa’s arm and pulling her back. "Mr. Fierro, I... she didn't mean any disrespect."
"She insulted my wife," Giovanni stated, his amber eyes lethal. "Jessica is not a toy. She is my heart. She is the mother of the child I consider my own. If either of you ever speak to her, look at her, or breathe in her direction again, you will find out exactly what kind of man I am. Now, apologize to Mrs. Fierro, and get out of my sight."
Tyler swallowed hard, completely humiliated in front of the surrounding executives who had stopped to watch the execution. "I apologize, Jessica," he choked out, before dragging a furious, terrified Vanessa toward the exit.
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I looked up at Giovanni, my chest heaving, the adrenaline rushing through my veins. "You didn't have to threaten his career."
Giovanni looked down at me, the ice in his eyes melting into a blazing, undeniable fire. "I would burn this entire city to the ground to keep you safe, Jessica. Do not ever doubt that."
