Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 63: Date

"Aren’t you supposed to be on a date in a few minutes’ time, or did you cancel?"

Gianna looked up from the design she was working on, pencil hovering mid-stroke as if reluctant to leave the curve it was perfecting.

She met Athena’s curious gaze and sighed, the sound soft but weighted, before finally dropping the pencil onto the desk. It rolled slightly, coming to rest against a stack of papers.

"Tell me you didn’t cancel." Athena continued, already stepping into the room proper, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click that sealed them into the shared intimacy of the space.

"You need the timeout. You’ve been working since morning, only taking a few minutes to eat."

"I didn’t." Gianna said, lips puckering unconsciously as if bracing herself.

Athena exhaled in relief, shoulders loosening as she crossed the room and sat on the edge of Gianna’s bed, the mattress dipping beneath her weight. "Good. You should welcome a distraction..."

A pause followed, Athena’s eyes scanning Gianna from head to toe, sharp and assessing. "So why aren’t you dressed? You lost track of time?"

Gianna nodded with another sigh, pushing herself to her feet. She stretched instinctively, arms lifting overhead, spine arching as joints protested mildly.

Her eyes caught the clock on the wall, and she stilled. She really did only have a few minutes left. She was already late.

It was safe to say that Noah would be waiting awhile.

"Well then, hurry into the room. I’ll help you dress."

Gianna raised a brow, slow and incredulous, which only made Athena chuckle.

Between the two of them, Athena was always the one who needed help getting dressed for events—her fashion sense notoriously questionable, was next to zero.

Still, Gianna started to undress without ceremony, movements easy.

It was while talking with Athena about the collection, that she noticed the faint paint stains on Athena’s clothes.

"You checked out the mansion today?"

"Yes, just coming from there. It will be done by next week." Athena paused, tone shifting slightly. "Will you be staying on here? Or will you rent an apartment?"

"For now, yes." Gianna answered, already walking toward the bathroom, nude and unbothered, never one to shy away from her own skin.

"Thank you..."

Gianna scoffed. "What are you thanking me for? I should be thanking you..."

Athena laughed, light and affectionate. "My old man wouldn’t say it, but I know he enjoys the company we all bring. That would reduce if we move to the Giacometti home. Sure, he could visit... but it would be different."

Gianna turned, catching the softening of Athena’s voice. "You know Ewan would stay anywhere you choose..."

Athena’s laugh was restrained this time. "I know. But I’d rather not. We can’t keep the house wallowing in misery. At least my old man will have you guys here—and there’s Cairo now, his new daughter. So I think every ground is covered."

Gianna shrugged lightly. "Choose a dress for me from the wardrobe." She disappeared into the bathroom.

—

"Seriously?"

Gianna’s tone was incredulous when she returned and took in the pink gown laid neatly across the bed.

"What? It is hot!" Athena defended, gesturing at the short flared gown with thin shoulder straps. "And it’s casual too. You don’t need to tell him you dressed up for him."

Gianna snorted, shaking her head. Her friend was a lost cause.

She strolled to the wardrobe, fingers trailing along hangers as her eyes scanned the options. Then she paused.

Red.

She pulled it free and smiled.

Red was a color of the night. Bold. Decisive. If she was going on a date with the top eligible bachelor in town, she might as well go all out.

It would help with PR—heavens knew she needed it, with the approaching convention.

"That screams I want you." Athena muttered, though admiration threaded clearly through her voice as Gianna twirled slowly moments later.

The red gown clung where it should, flowing where it needed to—silk sliding over her curves, neckline daring but tasteful, the cut accentuating her waist before cascading down her legs in a way that promised movement.

Paired with sleek heels in a darker shade, minimal gold jewelry catching the light at her throat and wrists, she looked every inch a woman stepping deliberately into her power.

"Oh, keep quiet..." Gianna teased, liking what she saw in the mirror. "Come do my makeup. Surely you can manage that much."

Athena pouted, but complied.

"How do I look?"

Athena checked her out slowly. "Well, I won’t be surprised if you don’t come back tonight."

Gianna rolled her eyes, but she was laughing now. "I will. I promise. Now, wish me luck."

She checked the time. Fifteen minutes late.

Rodney dropped her off at the location Darius had sent a couple of hours earlier.

She wasn’t surprised when she saw it was one of Dario’s restaurants—the newest and plushest, built specifically for the elite. The gate pass alone spoke of exclusivity.

When she stepped out of the car, Rodney seamlessly shifting into guard mode, he escorted her to the front doors before finally agreeing to let her go, though not without promising to wait outside.

Gianna didn’t bother arguing. It was futile.

The moment she walked in, she was blown away.

The restaurant breathed luxury—polished mahogany floors, rare hardwood tables with veins like art, lighting warm and deliberate, designed to flatter both food and faces.

The scent of spices, wine, and slow-cooked indulgence lingered in the air, layered and intoxicating. Soft music hummed beneath low conversations, silverware catching light, crystal glasses gleaming.

"Miss Aldo?"

Gianna nodded at the well-dressed, smiling waitress holding a black menu book.

"This way, please..."

Gianna followed her, aware of the stares beginning to gather from patrons. She wondered if it was her dress—or her identity.

Maybe both.

Noah was seated at the far end of the room.

And he looked breathtaking, in a burgundy three-piece suit.

And he was staring at her like the sun shone out of her eyes.