Gio's mother had been dead for many years. An aggressive form of breast cancer having taken her when he was eleven years old, and with her death, no one had pampered him anymore.
Sure he was taken care of, his clothes clean, his belly full and he got to pick and choose which schools he went to. There were always nannies and tutors around, people who made sure that not only was he well cared for, he was also well educated.
His father, the previous don, too busy grieving and running the family business to spend too much time with Gio. Which was not to say that he did not care. His father had loved him, that much Gio had known. His old man was just cut from a different cloth. He'd relied on his wife to be the one showing all the physical affection, and when she had died, he had been at a loss.
And to be honest, Gio had not known how to relate with his father either. The two of them not really much for talking, so they had just existed around each other. The whole thing had fostered a sense of independence in Gio. Sure he enjoyed the company of others, but he could do without them.
He enjoyed the attentions of women, but he never let it get any further than sex…until Elle always Elle.
Gio had been treading on dangerous waters ever since the moment he had admitted to himself that he loved her. But for the most part he had been able to keep it under control. He had even been able to convince himself that he would be able to take it when Elle finally left him, moving on to bigger and better things.
And then Elle moved in with him.
The first time, Gio had left her food so that she could have something to eat when she woke up and then order whatever she wanted. But Elle had not ordered in, Elle had cooked, a wholesome filling meal that'd had Gio fighting the urge to lick the plate.
Long after the food had been eaten, he had stared at the plate in wonder, wondering exactly what he had done to deserve a woman like her. The sticky note that had led him to it, right next to the plate.
The meal had been the first of many, and though Elle was always critiquing her own cooking, to Gio it was heaven on earth. And then in addition to the home cooked meals, there came another weapon that knocked off more of the wall Gio was attempting to reconstruct around his heart…the touches.
The only other Gio and Elle really touched was during sex. Palms skimming over each other's skin, lips against each other, tongues licking stripes onto every exposed bit of flesh. That was the sort of touching they did. The rest of the time, which was mostly at the club, they kept a respectable distance from each other, the closest they ever got to touching being head nods.
But since coming to his house, Elle had changed the rules. He did not know what had made her switch things up, but he wanted her to stop and go back to the way things were right away. Not because he did not like it, but because he did.
How could he not, welcome back kisses, a hand on his shoulder when they passed each other. Cuddles that did not need to be preceded by sex, and hugs, wonderful, wonderful, hugs. It was as though she had custom made the whole experience to make sure that when she finally left him, Gio's heart would be shattered beyond repair.
A theory she gave merit to when she finally decided to leave. The steak she had made that day had turned to ash in his mouth, but Gio had still polished off the whole thing. His mind going a mile a minute as he tried to process.
In the end he had fallen back on his old standby… sex. But this time his fear of her leaving him for good had been too close to the surface and he'd let a few things slip that he had not meant to. But still, he did not regret it.
Hearing Elle say that she was his, his and only his, their eyes locked, their bodies connected in the most intimate ways had been like a shot of pure pleasure straight to head. And he had been so lost in pleasure he had actually bitten her. He had come so hard his eyes had rolled all the way back.
But at the end of all that, he had still had to take her home. His only consolation being that she was just going back to her apartment, she was not leaving him for good.
Not yet, but soon, soon she would leave and never come back.
Gio had shaken that thought off as he left, nodding to the guards who would be keeping her safe from a distance. It was the only way Gio had been able to force himself to let her go.
No matter how much he hated it, he would not force her to stay if she did not want to. So he walked away without looking back, his heart feeling like a lead balloon. Unbeknownst to him, Elle stood behind her apartment door, her façade of being alright crumbling, one hand reaching for the door as though she were about to open it and ask him to stay.
But she did not open the door and Gio did not stop walking away.