Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 15: First Day

"You have been absconding from breakfast, my dear..."

Old Mr. Thorne’s gruff voice floated across the long dining table the moment Gianna stepped in, fastidiously dressed for work.

She softened as she covered the distance between them, smiling before bending to drop a kiss on his warm, wrinkled forehead.

His brows shot up, but he didn’t pull away.

"I’ll be fine, old man. Don’t worry too much," she teased, smoothing a hand over his shoulder.

He snorted loudly—one of his trademark disapprovals—and she chuckled, tapping him lightly on the arm as though patting down his irritation.

"I just have to be at work on time," she added, straightening. "Can’t be late on my first day."

Florence, sitting beside her husband with that gentle calm she carried everywhere, nodded slowly. "Alright. But you will get a packed lunch." Her tone dared Gianna to rebel.

Of course she couldn’t miss breakfast twice in a row. Gianna’s lips twitched in amusement.

One of the servants approached—neatly dressed, quick-footed—with a paper bag. "Your lunch, Miss Gianna."

"Thank you," she said kindly, before sending Old Mr. Thorne a playful wink.

He snorted again, louder this time, muttering under his breath about stubborn women who didn’t care for their health.

Gianna laughed outright, exchanging an amused glance with Florence before leaning down to ruffle Kathleen’s hair, then Nathaniel’s. Both kids instantly scowled.

"Aunt Gianna!" they complained in perfect unison.

Still laughing, she headed out of the house, her giggles trailing behind her like perfume. In the compound, Rodney stood beside the car, spine straight and hands clasped.

"Rodney, you don’t have to drive me. The children—"

"Not to worry, Miss Gianna," he cut in politely but firmly. "I can get you to work on time and return for them. Old Mr. Thorne’s orders." He added the last part quickly when she opened her mouth to argue.

He was right. The protest died on her lips. Shaking her head in defeat, she slid into the open car.

"At this rate, he might as well adopt me as a daughter," she muttered, buckling her belt.

Still... she didn’t mind it.

Being treated like family—being seen as family—was something she’d learned not to take for granted. Not after her uncle and his brood had shown their true colors the moment her parents died.

She pushed the depressing thought away. Not the kind of mood she wanted on her first day.

She rubbed her palms together, excitement burning under her skin as the car slid into the highway, excitement that made her chuckle intermittently.

A job that came with a new car. Sure, she could buy one herself—but legal freebies? Those hit differently.

Her smile dimmed, however, when she noticed the familiar route Rodney was taking.

Oh, he hadn’t gotten the memo.

"Rodney, no. I’m no longer working there. Take me to Beckett’s Jewelries." She tilted her head. "You’ve heard of it, right?"

Who hadn’t? Rodney thought, eyes widening a fraction as he made a sharp U-turn, completely ignoring the horns blasting furiously behind them.

"A new job? Congratulations, ma’am."

"Thanks, Rodney." Gianna sank back into the seat, relief loosening her shoulders. "So, tell me—how are you adjusting to the job?"

Athena had practically kidnapped him into employment after meeting him at a club. Classic Athena behavior. It still made Gianna smile.

Rodney’s responding grin was full of gratitude. "Very good, ma’am. Very good." At least he could now take better care of his family.

"That’s great." Gianna nodded, pleased. She rubbed her hands together again, anxiety and excitement tangling in her stomach.

Had they picked her secretary already? Was the car already waiting? What model? Would there be formal introductions?

Please let there be little to no fuss—she only wanted to work, to design, to breathe creativity.

"We’re here," Rodney announced after some moments.

Gianna inhaled deeply, grabbed her workbag, and smiled. "Thanks for the ride, Rodney. If all goes well, you won’t be stressed picking me up to and fro..."

"I’m not stressed, ma’am. I enjoy driving you."

She laughed lightly, thanked him again, and stepped out.

She stood at the entrance for a moment, heart fluttering as she took in the gleaming glass doors and towering structure—taking slow, measured breaths as she allowed this place, this new Chapter, to sink into her consciousness.

A final exhale, and she strolled into the company, her gait brimming with confidence that echoed lightly on the polished floors. If she was lucky, this would be a second home.

The moment she crossed into the lobby, the same petty receptionist from yesterday straightened and bowed her head in greeting. And so did several others—faces that had been ready to murder her with whispers just a day before.

"Good morning, Miss Gianna."

"How are you, Miss Gianna?"

"Hope you had a nice night, Miss Gianna."

"Welcome to Beckett’s Jewelries, Miss Gianna."

"Coffee, Miss Gianna?"

By the time she got to her office, she’d lost count of how many greetings she’d returned. Not that it bothered her—if anything, every "Miss Gianna" added fuel to her buzzing energy.

Energy that sizzled... then faltered, sharply, when she saw that her space had been invaded by two females.

She paused at the doorway, the knob still cold in her hand. Had they given her two secretaries?

She subtly appraised them.

The petite one wore black palazzos and a crisp red office shirt. Light brown hair twisted into a neat bun, a constellation of freckles around her nose, glasses perched perfectly. She had been mid-conversation with the second woman before Gianna walked in.

The second female, slightly taller, wore a navy-blue office gown, plump heels, and a short bobbed black hairstyle. She carried an air of sophistication that screamed old money, and a haughty lift of chin when she turned to meet Gianna’s gaze.

No, not two secretaries, Gianna concluded, walking into the office proper and allowing the door to shut softly behind her. Something about the haughty fellow looked familiar. A fellow jewelry designer?

Could only be. Maybe they had met at a competition.

Their eyes met again.

Yes. She did know that face.

"So." The taller woman started, folding her arms, gaze dripping frost. "Gianna Aldo, in the flesh... already taking what is mine."