Nella’s POV
The villa’s private gym was hidden behind a heavy oak door on the lower level — a room I hadn’t even known existed until Giovanni led me down the stone staircase a few days after the cathedral attack. He had let me rest and feel a bit comfortable around the villa.
The gym smelt of rubber mats and leather.
High ceilings, mirrored walls on one side, padded floor, racks of weights, punching bags, and a small weapons cabinet locked behind the glass.
No windows.
Just recessed lights and the low hum of air conditioning.
Giovanni stood in the centre of the mat wearing black athletic pants and a fitted grey tank that clung to every ridge of his muscles. His arms were bare — his tattoos curled over his biceps and shoulders like dark vines. He looked even bigger down here — 6’7” of
