The Italian Businessman (Old Version).

5) Dismissal.

Giovanni chuckles softly and brings me closer to his side, so that my body is curled against his muscled frame. “Where are we going?” I question, looking up at him through my lashes. My head rests against his shoulder and his hand is wrapped around my waist.

“That, amore mio is a sorpresa.” My lips automatically pout in reply, as he stares down at me. I have always had an absolute hate for surprises, since I was a little kid.

They had either been about me going with my Mother to look for acceptable attire or accompanying my Father to his company. None of them being my favourite past times.

“Ahh, you don’t like surprises, do you?” He chuckles, leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead. I huff and shake my head,

“I hate them.” I reply honestly. He raises an eyebrow in reply. “Don’t all girls love being surprises?’ His question somewhat catches me off guard.

“I’m not like most girls.” I mumble softly, Giovanni doesn’t hear my muttering and instead interlocks one of my hands with his own. Mine looking like that of a dwarf in comparison to his.

The car comes to a stop, just as Giovanni’s cellphone rings. He looks down at it in confusion, then back at me, the conflict as clear as daylight on his face. I nod my head, giving him permission to his unasked question. He smiles briefly at me, before answering the phone in his mother tongue.

As he does, he gets out of the backseat and I follow after him. I say a quick thanks to Alexander,

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Richmond.”

An impatient tug on my hand makes me glare up at Giovanni in annoyance. Only to frown, when a flash goes off from behind him, paparazzi. Can’t they just give him a break for today?

By now, Giovanni is already off of the phone and speed walking to the entrance of an expensive looking jewelry shop. Countless questions and accusations are thrown at both Giovanni and I as we swiftly walk through the ever building crowd.

Once we make it inside, a shop assistant asks us if we are looking for anything specific.

“I placed an order under the name Giovanni Amelio, my assistant had called and you said it was ready.” His tone has gone from lit and flirty, to one of a businessman.

The petite blonde looks at the Italian man beside me, a deep breath later and I can see by the glint in her eyes that she regognises him. Immediately her smile brightens,

“Yes, yes. Mr. Amelio, please follow me.”

I followed behind Giovanni as he and Linda, as she had introduced herself as, talks to him about the different products they have. I mentally roll my eyes, she acts as though I don’t even exist. Only offering him something to eat or drink. Not that I would have said yes, but it was common decency to ask.