𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨. Model, actress, celebrity. At the age of 22 Gianna already has everything or at least that's what everyone thinks.
But in reality, her life couldn't be more of a mess. Where there's money there's alcohol, where there's pa...
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"So, what's your favorite color?" I ask Russo while going through all the different lace bras.
I haven't been to Victoria Secret in ages, or to any lingerie store for that matter. William doesn't care about that kind of thing and I care even less, I'm actually a firm believer that no man deserves this much effort. And for me personally, there's nothing more comfortable than a good pair of classic cut panties and no bra, so that's what I usually go for even if brands have gifted me around a hundred different stunning sets.
Pretty boy doesn't need to know that, though.
"I'm not going to help you choose your underwear color." He mutters slowly watching me as I check the tags of a baby pink bra.
I wouldn't say he is uncomfortable but he sure isn't comfortable either.
"It's okay, I don't really need you to answer I'm pretty sure your favorite color is black like your soul, or maybe red, like the blood of your victims. In fact, I would bet a hundred dollars your favorite color is one of those." Letting go of the pink bra I pick up a black and a red one and turn around to meet his eyes. "Bet or not bet?"
"I don't bet." He says simply.
"That means I'm right." I can't help but smile as I put the bra against my body. "Okay, look at me and try to imagine what I would look like with nothing but this on. Which would make me look sexier, black or red?" I ask with my most innocent voice even if I'm more than sure he is perfectly aware of what I'm playing at.
"Why don't you go try it on and see for yourself?" His tone is perfectly monotonous, that poker face of his back on. I wonder if he trains it, if he stares at his reflection in the mirror every morning practicing his signature emotionless look.
"Will you take a peak and tell me if you like it, though?" I walk towards him, both bras now back in my hand. "You have good taste, I would really appreciate your opinion." I press them against his chest with my hand still not giving up. He has to break, everyone does eventually, you just need to push the right buttons.
"Gianna." My name comes out of his lips like a frustrated warning, his eyes focusing on my hand resting over his body. "Try it on or not I don't care but quit playing."
"Quit playing? You giving up already, Russo? I thought you said you knew how to play dirty." Grabbing his tie for the second time today I hold onto it as I walk around him, then, stopping right on his side I get even closer to him. My face just a few inches away from his ear. "Come on, show me how dirty you can get," I whisper really really slowly.
And when I think I have won, that maybe Jesse was right and all I needed to make Russo break was simply flirt with him I feel his hand wrap around my wrist. Tight enough to feel the pressure but not enough to hurt.
"You don't wanna play with me this way, Gianna." He mutters, looking directly into my eyes while his hand is still tight around my wrist. "Trust me." He adds, his tone so cold I have to fight with every fiber of my body not to shiver in response.
