Page 105 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8
She’d seen and heard the change in him when she’d explained her trip to Rome. There’d been regret and guilt, and he’d been horrified when she’d accused him of having sex as some power game. That had moved her, for it had been obviously real.
Or was wishful thinking clouding her judgement? But what had he to gain with lies now? Her intuition had been sharpened by the last few traumatic months and her inner voice urged her to listen and give him the benefit of the doubt.
He’d misjudged her and apologised. Frankly, she’d lived with her father and brothers so long she wasn’t used to apologies. That alone set him apart.
She hated that her expectations had lowered so much.
Was it possible she’d misjudged Gio as he had her?
She wasn’t sure anything excused his actions, but she was desperate to understand.
‘It’s not about you, personally?’ she clarified.
She couldn’t get distracted. She needed to understand this feud and she’d discover why he’d hijacked her wedding.
‘No. I just represent what he hates. What he can’t forget.’
There was one thing her father hated above all else. Shock made her blurt out, ‘He lost out to your family on something? In a business deal?’
It didn’t seem possible. Her father never lost. Once he set his mind on something he always won through. It was one of the things that made him so formidable.
‘Not a business deal.’
Gio’s jaw set like stone. Not just his jaw. Naked above his swim shorts, his honed body was tense, muscles bunched, even the tendons in his forearms and neck standing proud. His hands, hands that could be incredibly gentle when he caressed her, curled into fists.
‘You hate him,’ she whispered.
‘With every atom of my being.’
Gio drew a deep breath that lifted his impressive chest, then exhaled as if forcing out something painful. Stella fought not to be distracted by all that masculine enticement.
‘What did he do to make you pursue a vendetta?’
She knew her father was ruthless and that he hid many things from her. She was tired of being in the dark.
Gio rubbed his chin, then forked his fingers through his hair, as if needing a physical outlet for his emotions. ‘I’mnot pursuing a vendetta. He is.’ Gio paused, frowning. ‘Or was. Since my father died it’s been only straight commercial rivalry, nothing more.’
The skin at her nape drew tight and unease trickled down her backbone. It had been more than commercial rivalry? How much more? ‘Tell me.’
Gio’s gaze changed as if he looked at something faraway. ‘My parents met in Sicily. My mother was local and my father moved there from the north when he inherited a hotel. They fell in love and married, working together to run the place.’
Stella nodded. She knew the Valenti commercial empire predated Gio, though it had expanded enormously since he took it over.
‘We lived on the premises, my parents, my sister and me. It wasn’t a luxury hotel but it was in a premium position and they worked hard to build it up.’
‘They were competitors with my father?’
A furious glitter of emotion sparked in Gio’s eyes.
‘Not in the beginning. But your father saw mine as a rival. My mother was beautiful and Barbieri wanted her, but she’d have nothing to do with him. Even before my father came on the scene she’d rejected Barbieri. She knew he was vicious and unscrupulous. But the more she said no, the more he wanted her. When my parents fell in love he took it as a personal insult. According to my parents, he used to bully people into getting what he wanted. He never learnt to handle rejection.’
Stella swallowed hard. It was true, her father was a bully. He’d always used persuasion with her, convincing her that his way was best. But she’d often agreed to something because it was easier than provoking his anger.
‘You’re right,’ she murmured. ‘He doesn’t accept rejection.’
She thought of the time her father had insisted she end her friendship with Ginevra, the sweet-natured girl with whom she’d become friends while others teased Stella about being a foreigner.
He’d objected to the friendship because Ginevra’s family was poor and he wanted Stella to mix with‘a better class of people’, as befitted the daughter of a successful entrepreneur. When she’d stood by her friend, he’d ripped Stella out of the local school and sent her to a private one, full of privileged girls who looked down their noses at her.
