Giovanni’s POV

I stood frozen, trying to understand what he was talking about. Who is he? Why was he looking for me?

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, but his eyes didn’t leave my face. He kept inspecting me like he was searching for something.

"Who hit you like this? You're bleeding," he demanded, touching my forehead. I flinched — the sting made my eyes water.

"You can't be touching someone's wife like this," Stephanie snapped sharply, her voice full of anger.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" he fired back coldly.

Then he turned to me again, his eyes softening with concern.

"Tell me, Giovanni, who hit you?"

Even though I didn’t know him, something about his presence made my walls come down. My throat burned with the words I had been holding in. I swallowed my fear and grabbed the chance.

"He ordered her to beat me up. He refused to let me go because I told him I wanted a divorce," I said, my voice cracking at the end.

His face darkened instantly, like a storm ready to destroy everything in its path. He turned sharply to his men.

"Beat him to a pulp. Don’t stop until he passes out," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"And her," he added, pointing at Stephanie, "lock her up until I decide what to do with her."

"You need medical attention. Let's go," he said, lifting me easily.

Outside, the snow fell softly. Someone rushed over with an umbrella as the car door opened. I curled into him without thinking as we drove off.

*****

I woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar room. My body ached and my head was heavy.

I remembered the doctor, the sharp sting of an injection, and then nothing.

As I tried to sit up, a lady rushed in. "Are you okay, Madam?" she asked.

Madam? My stomach twisted.

"Why are you calling me Madam?" I croaked out.

"Mr. Blackwood said you’re the new Madam," she said simply, like it made perfect sense.

Shock rooted me in place.

"Why am I the new Madam?"

"I don't know," she replied, her tone soft but helpless.

Before I could ask more, the door burst open. A tall woman in an elegant dress entered, her beauty and confidence making me shrink.

"Madam Giovanni, I’m Mitchell. Mr. Blackwood personally chose me as your PA," she said warmly.

I shook my head in confusion, the knot in my chest tightening.

"What? Why is he treating me like this?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"You’re so lucky, Madam Giovanni. No one has ever gotten this much attention from Mr. Blackwood before," Mitchell said. "You must hold a special place in his heart. Anyway, you should rest. I’m just here to take care of a few things."

I didn't know what to feel — fear, hope, or dread. All I knew was my heart was racing, and nothing made sense anymore.

"You can bring it in," Mitchell called out. Immediately, several people filed into the room, carrying dresses, jewelry, and shoes.

"For me?" I whispered, almost laughing from how absurd it all felt.

"You, of course," she said with a gentle smile. But it didn't calm me.

When they finished arranging everything, she turned back to me.

"Your breakfast will be ready soon. Please come downstairs when you’re done. The doctor will be here to change your bandage," she said politely.

I could barely nod. My body was here, but my mind was spinning somewhere else. I had never been treated like this before. It didn’t feel real.

Just as she was about to leave, I called out desperately,

"Please, can I see Mr. Blackwood?"

She turned, looking at me kindly.

"He left for an urgent meeting early this morning. I'm sure he'll be back soon," she reassured me.

"Okay. Thanks," I whispered, feeling suddenly small.

*****

Night came, but Mr. Blackwood still hadn’t returned.

Every second felt like an hour. I asked Mitchell if she knew anything, but she just shook her head.

Then, finally, I heard the blare of cars horn outside. My heart jumped painfully in my chest.

Maybe now I would finally get answers. Maybe I would finally understand all this

But when the doors swung open, it wasn’t him.

A group of men entered, surrounding an older man who walked ahead with a powerful air.

"That's Mr. Luca Blackwood, Mr. Gray Blackwood's father," Mitchell whispered urgently.

"What?" My gasped

"Yes. I don't know why he's here all of a sudden," she said, frowning deeply before hurrying to greet him.

Mitchell bowed. "Welcome, Mr. Blackwood."

He didn’t even glance at her. "Where’s the girl Gray brought home?" His voice was full of anger

My brows furrowed. He’s looking for me?

"Why did you come for her, sir?" Mitchell asked bravely.

Without warning, the man slapped her hard across the face.

"Who are you to question me?" he snapped.

"Mr. Gray told me to protect her with my entire life. So I need to know why you're here for her," she said firmly, standing in front of him without fear.

"Then get rid of her," he ordered his boys coldly.

I rushed forward in panic. "No, no! I’m the one you’re looking for!" I shouted in fear.

There was silence. His eyes stayed on me as Mitchell struggled, pinned down.

He smirked. “Gray sure has good taste.”

For a second, I thought he’d let it go—but then his voice turned cold.

“Did you really think you could stop his engagement to Stephanie? Not while I’m alive.”

“James,” he called, and a man stepped forward.

“Take her somewhere Gray won’t find her.”