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ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THREE.

ALESSANDRO, AKA DON VALENTINO.

I walk through the front door of the villa with a splitting headache and sleep on my mind.

But first, I need to find Ivy and make things right.

I understand she is hurting and furious with my sudden departure and the brief note I left her.

Ryan made that apparent. And Riccardo did warn me to wait and explain the situation to her.

It's pretty evident that I didn’t, and guilt consumes me entirely.

Ivys’ bellissinmo face is the last image I see before I shut my eyes at night and the first image that flashes across my mind when I wake up.

Internally, I'm a fucking mess!

This trip was a waste of time, and I'm probably in the doghouse for who knows how long.

As I'm walking towards my office to place my gun in my safe, I hear voices coming from the living room, and I decide to check it out.

Upon entering the living room, rubbing the sides of my temples, my eyes instantly fall upon Ivy as she sits on the sofa with a worried look on her face.

Like she's just
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