Chapter 2

Savanna

I got up tasting the bitterness of betrayal and went to shower. I scrubbed my body until my skin was raw.

I didn't want to have given in so easily. Didn't want to love him so much that I'd forgotten my pride, my dignity.

I didn't want his marks all over my body, reminding me of the night he'd used me just to protect the woman he actually loved.

At twenty-seven, after nine years of loving Gio, I'd finally hit my breaking point.

Nine years of trying to make him love me. Nine years of pulling out every weapon in my arsenal just to get him to notice me.

I could've had any man I wanted. I was Savanna De Luca — daughter of the Don, the man who ruled this city.

Gio was nothing but a thief when I met him. He snatched my purse, but when he called out "Sorry, gorgeous!" — he stole my heart too.

Bold move, robbing the Don's beloved daughter. Everyone in this city knew how my father spoiled me.

Naturally, that stunt put a target on Gio's back. Within twenty-four hours, my father's soldati had him. My father's fury would've left him in pieces — if not dead, then at the very least missing both hands.

But I said:

"Dad, I like him. Recruit him into the organization. Just don't tell him I asked, okay?"

I wanted Gio to see the real me back then — not some savior he owed a debt to.

Everyone knew my father gave me whatever I wanted, so even reluctantly, he brought Gio in as a soldato.

I was eighteen then. He was twenty-three.

Training under my father's command transformed him from a scrawny kid into a man. When I first fell for him, he was thin, tall, and wore a haunted expression.

Over time, his body filled out with muscle. His cold features took on a dark sensuality. He began radiating a quiet, dangerous masculinity that drew me in like gravity.

Needless to say, I only fell harder.

I practically lived at the training facility just to catch a glimpse of him, but he never spared me a glance.

I'd bring meals for all the recruits — a flimsy excuse to mask my obvious fixation — but I always tucked something special into Gio's container, hoping he'd notice.

He always traded his meal with someone else.

When he finished training and became a full soldato, I had my father assign him to my personal security detail. Just so we'd spend more time together.

Before Gio, I'd been a simple girl despite my status — all I cared about was finishing my fine arts degree. I had no interest in the games of seduction girls my age were playing.

But for Gio, I changed. Bolder clothes. Heavier makeup. Each day I grew more desperate for his attention.

I asked him to help me clasp my bra. To help me try on new outfits. To help me pin up my hair. I ordered him into every situation I could think of that might bring us closer, spark some desire.

He was always there — cold, eyes elsewhere.

I started to think that was simply who he was. That his personality made him incapable of showing emotion.

Then I saw him with Mia.

With her, he smiled. With her, his eyes were warm. With her, he could talk for hours.

I didn't understand. I was beautiful, the Don's daughter, smart, willing to do anything for him — but he only had eyes for that girl with the sad face.

What had started as a thrilling chase turned agonizing.

By twenty-four, after six years of trying, I'd gotten nowhere.

I had no idea what else to do. I was obsessed.

That's when my father called me in.

"Sweetheart, you've graduated and you're twenty-four now. It's time to find you a suitable match."

He showed me photos of the most eligible bachelors in high society — sons of powerful Dons from other families, sons of senators and billionaires.

Men he'd handpicked. Men who had power, money, and looks to spare.

My father always demanded the best of everything for me.

I rejected every single one.

"Dad, I want to marry Gio."

He refused outright.

"Gio isn't in your league."

"But Dad, I love him."

"He'll make you suffer."

"You're wrong! One day he'll love me back."

"I'm not wrong, sweetheart. My past has a lot in common with Gio's. I was a miserable pickpocket once too. Raised by the streets — a very different education from yours. I know that boy like the back of my hand. You and Gio have been incompatible since birth."

"If it's not him, then I don't want anyone. I'll die single."

I was proud and spoiled. I wasn't used to hearing no from my father.

I went on a hunger strike — wouldn't eat, wouldn't speak — until he caved.

My first order to Gio:

"Sign these documents. We're getting married. That's an order from your superior."

In the family's hierarchy, as the Don's daughter, he was expected to obey me without question.

But he hesitated. He could've refused — I never would've let anyone hurt him, even if he broke my heart.

Seeing him waver, I played my final card.

"If you sign, I'll get your mother the best treatment in the world. I promise — she'll never be in pain again."

He stared at me, visibly torn, the conflict written across his face.

Of course I knew everything about him. About his mother's failing kidneys. About Mia — the girl he called his sister but who wasn't related to him at all.

So he signed.

I was overcome in that moment. A happiness I'd never felt before.

But now, at twenty-seven, after three years of marriage, that happiness had curdled into frustration and heartbreak.

I'd never won his heart.

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