◇ MYKAELA ◇ Get married? Just like that? Was he drunk already? Or just trying to be funny? That unbelievably messy engagement his manipulative ex broke off to humiliate him didn't traumatize him enough? Why the heck would he want to get married this soon? I wasn't pregnant. I'd gladly show him a pregnancy test result right freakin' now if only I had one. I almost bought a test kit yesterday, out of sheer curiosity, partly out of worry. But I kept my mouth shut about it. My mother or sister still had no clue. Gaia didn't even know I already gave my v-card to him. Why did he really want to talk to my mom? Did he seriously think he was now obligated to marry me? Just because of what happened between us in his house? "Lorenzio, just stop. Okay? It's not funny." "Funny?" he said louder. Enzo got up from his chair with a scowl. Our eyes connected. I leaned against the kitchen counter, my knees weak all of a sudden. My face and armpits were heating up, probably sweating now like my nap
◆ MAXIMILIANO ◆ The goal was simple. Cheat the clauses, then cash in my inheritance. I'd just found a loophole. And it should be something I could use to my advantage. The plan: 1) Find a fake wife. 2) Get married somewhere. 3) Collect my money. 4) Split the cash. 5) Get a divorce. It was doable. Plausible. Not too easy, but not that difficult to pull off, either. Sure. I could've picked a better day, another place, and a more reasonable time to pitch my idea. But since honesty and transparency was today's theme, I should just get it over with to see if there's any chance she'd agree to it. "What?" Adreana blinked a few times, perhaps just letting my answer sink in. Her dazed look revealed just how much shock my words managed to deliver. "I need someone to pretend to be my wife. For some time." Adreana faked another grin, her dark and long brows creasing. "Pretend?" My jaw clenched. "A year tops." "One year?" "Preferably." Six months could work, but, to be sure, a full y
Grand Luxoria Hotel Florence, Italy ◆ MAXIMILIANO ◆ It was Monday again. Another hectic work day for her, as it was for me. Her workload must be keeping her too busy to check her phone. So, no. She wouldn't ignore my texts just because of the things we talked about yesterday. Not now. Not after everything we'd been through this week. No fucking way. The last communication she sent from her work email was timestamped an hour ago, said the main server's logs. My unanswered messages were probably still unopened. Just waiting for her attention. Like me. I pinched the taut and warm skin between my brows. Traffic. Another bitching migraine. That unnecessarily lengthy call with another disgruntled client. The stupid meetings. The heat. "Fuck." I could pop half a bottle of painkillers right now. Sleeping pills could work, too. But I'd rather sit through this pain than check myself into that rehab facility again. No thanks. And quitting my job wasn't an option. Not right now. With Ales
◆ LORENZIO ◆ An incessant buzzing noise beside my head jolted me out of my sleep. I sat up on the bed and glanced at the nightstand clock. Bollocks. Not even dawn yet. I rubbed my eyes. I itched the old white scar on my forehead, right on my hairline. It wasn't that old, though. Under bright lights, I could still trace Mykaela's clean stitches whenever I stared at the pale scarring up-close. As my brain fought through the groggy haze, I tried to concentrate on the noise. It was my phone. Vibrating somewhere. I slid my fingers under my other pillow and grabbed my phone as it buzzed louder in my hand. Unregistered number. Florence area code. One of the lawyers? No. I had all of their numbers saved on this account. Yawning, I switched on the bedside lamp, half-expecting a familiar voice to fill the other line, and half-dreading another slew of bad news. "Lying piece of shit." Oh, great. It was my dearest brother: Leandro Enrico Tomassini. Someone gave him my new number. But it wasn'
◆ MAXIMILIANO ◆We reached her hotel room in three minutes or less. Alone. Enjoying the little privacy we still had. Once I shut the door behind us, my phone buzzed in my back pocket, but I ignored it. The feeling of her entire body leaning against me trumped everything else.In the dimness, I nuzzled the side of her ear as my hands traced the curve of her hips, earning me a muted sigh from her. A sigh of regret? Or total submission? Perhaps both. "Maxim, we can't." Adreana spoke in a hushed voice, perhaps out of embarrassment and worry. Her warm breaths fanned my cheeks and mouth, and her soft hand wouldn't stop caressing my chest."Yeah. I know.""We just can't right now. Sorry.""Don't apologize," I murmured after gently kissing her temple. "You know why," she went on upon glancing at me, her sigh prolonged. "Love, I just wanna be safe."I pulled away. Did she just say "love"? Was it a pet name she used with her other friends? Did she have any friends? "I know.""Goodnight kiss?"
◆ LORENZIO ◆ "Two weeks. Bring her back here. " "Yeah. Yeah. Heard you the first time." "Stronzo." [Asshole.] "Nice talkin' to you, too." I scowled at the number on my screen after the beep. The petty threat behind his words did nothing to lull the violent images forming in the back of my mind. It wasn't an absolute bluff—I just got an email from one of his lawyers confirming my suspicion. Considering his obsession with Alodia didn't wane, I'd bet good money he would punish whoever he deemed complicit in his ex-girlfriend's disappearance. Even Rafa, who only hung out with my brother a handful of times, knew Leandro was the type to bribe cops and hire a hitman just to get rid of witnesses or anyone who dared to stand in his way. Shite. I'd better call Rafa now. Warn him. Convince him to give up her whereabouts. With my phone, I shut the bathroom door and sat on the edge of the cold tub. I doubted a recent video clip of a healthy, happily pregnant Alodia would be enough for her
◇ MYKAELA ◇ A little after nine o'clock. Okay. Not too late. No more rush hour traffic. We'd be there in less than an hour. I glanced down at the duffel bag sitting beside me. It hid overnight clothes, some toiletries, my laptop, tablet, and some books I should read through over the weekend. I simply could not afford to fail that post-training assessment. The bag in the trunk wasn't for me, though. It contained a dozen curtains for Enzo's house. My apology and excuse to see him. All brand new, too. I leaned forward and scrunched up my nose at the strong, musky aftershave scent all over the interior. I blamed the guy sitting in front of me. "Lele." "Miss?" "You sure your boss just got home?" I sat up straight. I placed my hand on the back of the driver seat where Marco sat. Gabriele budged and stopped chewing his gum to regard me. "Yup. 'Bout two hours ago." So Enzo went out for dinner? Alone? "Where was he?" "Downtown." But where exactly? "D'you know who met up with him?" "Ju
Mariangela, Umbria ◆ MAXIMILIANO ◆ "Why'd you get another haircut?" "I was bored." With a half-empty wine glass, I flumped down in the chair beside my grinning drinking buddy tonight. My cousin snickered. "Looks good on you." Covered up by a dark tracksuit and sneakers, Ricchar took a drag, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You look so grown up, bambino." I scoffed at his attempt to mimic my mother's voice. "Just tryna look like a respectable corporate guy," I mumbled, cringing at my own words. But it wasn't a lie. This shorter haircut should be able to somewhat improve my image, and make me look like I had my shit together. The people I worked with and the clients I handled on a regular basis wouldn't take me seriously if I kept looking like just another a drug-addled frat boy. "Did Magnus contact you again?" "This week?" I shook my head while my borderline alcoholic cousin poured more red wine into his glass. "Why? He called you?" "No." "You need to talk to him?" What for? Di