Chapter 3 Three

The city skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Velvet Luxe Events, one of New York’s most exclusive event firms. From her corner office, Raven Quinn could almost believe she’d rebuilt her life from the ashes.

Velvet Luxe specialized in grandeur… high-society galas, private weddings, and corporate soirées for the city’s elite.

For the last three months, Raven had thrown herself into it all.. spreadsheets, guest lists, endless champagne tastings… anything to silence the echo of that night in Vegas. The night she still couldn’t quite forget.

Her office reflected her perfectly sleek and modern, with just enough warmth to hide the cracks. A sprawling white desk gleamed under the soft light, and one wall was covered by a massive calendar filled with neat handwriting… color-coded deadlines, notes, and reminders.

She’d thrown herself into work, long hours, and even longer nights at the firm.

Deadlines, design. ,… those were things she understood.

She’d almost stopped thinking about him.

Almost.

Until that morning.

Miss Quinn,” her secretary’s voice came through the intercom “There’s a gentleman here to see you. He said it’s important.”

Raven frowned, glancing at the clock. “Did he give his name?”

“No, ma’am. Just said you’d want to see him.”

Raven sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine. Send him in.”

The door opened.

And her breath caught.

Standing in the doorway was a man she hadn’t seen in months… her ex. Or at least, she thought it was.

Same tall frame. Same sharp jawline. Same intense brown eyes that used to look at her like she was both his salvation and his undoing but his was different like he wore a contact lens.

The shock hit her chest like a fist before the anger followed, hot and instant.

“You’ve got some nerve,” she muttered, pushing up from her chair. Before she could stop herself, she crossed the room and slapped him.

The sound cracked through the quiet office.

He stared at her, stunned.

Her chest heaved. “How dare you walk in here like you have any right… ” her voice shook, fury cutting through every word.

“It’s been five months, Gabriele! Five months since you called off the wedding and vanished. No call, no message, nothing! And now you show up here like nothing happened?”

He blinked slowly, the initial surprise fading. Straightening to his full height, his expression cooled, his voice dropping low and calm.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Raven’s pulse thundered in her ears. “I’m telling you exactly what I think! You broke my heart, humiliated me, and now you..”

“Miss Quinn,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone laced with quiet authority. “I never called off a wedding. Why would I, when we’re already married?”

Her breath caught mid-sentence.

“What?” she whispered.

He stepped past her like he belonged there, settling onto the couch across from her desk. His movements were unhurried, annoyingly composed. Leaning back, one arm draped over the cushion, he regarded her with infuriating calmness.

“Married?” she repeated, disbelief dripping from the word. “You’ve lost your damn mind, Gabriele. You and I are not married. We were never married.”

He arched a brow, studying her. “Gabriele?” he echoed, as though tasting the name for the first time. Then a flicker of realization crossed his face. “Ah. I see.”

“I see what?” Raven demanded.

“I’m not Gabriele,” he said simply.

She stared at him, distrustfully. “Are you serious right now? You disappear for months, and this is the game you show up playing?”

He didn’t flinch. If anything, his voice softened, the edge replaced by something disturbingly familiar. “I’m not joking, honeybee.”

The nickname hit her like a slap.

Her heart stumbled. Honeybee. The way he said it… low, teasing, intimate.. dragged her backward through memory. The ring. The hangover. The blurred hotel room.

Her throat tightened. “Did you trick me?” she demanded, voice trembling now. “Did you trick me into sleeping with you in Vegas? I knew you could be cruel, Gabriele, but not this cruel! How could you trick me into having sex you son of a bitch!”

“ I told you I’m not Gabriele,” he said again, calm and certain this time. “I’m Gio. Giovanni.”

She froze.

The air in the room thickened, heavy and unreal.

Raven’s mind scrambled for sense, for logic, for something that didn’t sound insane. “This has to be a joke,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his tailored suit and pulled out a small photograph. He slid it across her desk with slow precision.

Two boys smiled up from the picture… identical twins with dark hair, matching smirks, and the same piercing brown eyes.

Raven looked from the photo to the man in front of her, her pulse hammering so hard she could barely breathe.

His gaze met hers, steady and unyielding. “I’m not Gabby,” he said quietly. “I’m Giovanni.”

“Your husband.”