Elegantly Wasted
Eleanora smirks.
Jealousy flares in my chest at the thought of Raffaele with anyone else.
Eleanora senses it immediately and chuckles. "Relax, dear. My son only has eyes for you now."
"He better," I murmur, making her laugh as we finally arrive at a small restaurant for lunch.
"Tell me a bit about yourself," she says once we’re settled, just the two of us while the security detail remains outside, keeping watch.
"Well, I own a company back home. I’m the CEO. It’s been running for five years, though we faced a rough patch a few months ago—almost lost everything," I say, meeting her gaze.
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