Under The Tuscan Sun Novels & Stories

POV RUBY The Tuscan sun was a golden weight against the terracotta tiles of our villa, a heat so pure it felt like it could cauterize the wounds of the past six months. We had chosen a life of quiet anonymity, tucked away in the rolling hills of Val d’Orcia, where the only sounds were the rustle of olive groves and the distant chime of church bells. To the world, Gianna and Alessandro Rossi were just another wealthy couple enjoying an early retirement. To us, we were two survivors of a war that the world didn't even know had been fought.

Jazzy 'nodded, she had previously ordered a tuna sandwich, but after hearing that their trip would take another five to six hours, she ordered a serving of pasta. "When they arrive, let me do the talking ... We don't know how they will respond. Better be carefull." "Humm." Jasmine just muttered, her mouth is very full of food. "You know ... at the morning ... Like this, and you are exposed to the sun ...." Jasmine turned to the window which had been giving off the warm morning sunshine of this town."You look ethereal. Like unhuman ... yet ..." She tilted her face ... Watching Marco's face deeply," you are not ... cuz you are a Lycan actually." She then giggled.

The descent into the Tuscan valley was a blur of emerald green and ancient stone. From the cockpit of the stealth chopper, the Moretti Estate looked like a Renaissance painting—sprawling vineyards, cypress trees standing like silent sentinels, and at the center, a massive villa of honey-colored marble. But as we drew closer, the artifice faded. I saw the flash of sunlight off sniper scopes on the battlements and the black-clad security teams patrolling the perimeter with a mechanical, Rose-enhanced precision.

The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their Tuscan villa, bathing the master bathroom in golden light. Lila Voss stood under the rainfall shower, water cascading over her toned, freckled body as she pressed Sophia Moretti against the cool marble wall. “Fuck, you taste so good,” Lila murmured, her fingers sliding between Sophia’s soft thighs, stroking her wife’s slick folds. Sophia moaned softly, her full breasts heaving as she rocked against Lila’s hand.

he says casually, “since when do you monitor tableware stability?” “It was going to spill.” “It wasn’t.” “It almost did.” Shawn looks between us. “I feel like I’m missing context.” “You’re not,” Mike says smoothly. I stand abruptly. “Where are you going?” Shawn asks. “You’re not going into the southern woods today.” Mike’s eyes narrow slightly. Shawn frowns. “I wasn’t planning to?” “Good.” I move toward the counter, pouring myself coffee I don’t need. “You’ve been there before,” Shawn continues. “You showed me the trails two summers ago.”

I reached across the table, stacked the two itineraries together, and accepted, with the same cold practicality I had once used on hostile filings, that Tuscany would receive three Rossinis instead of two. The wheels touched down under Italian light. The transfer vehicle held three seats. Thomas pressed his forehead to the window and watched the countryside with the focused satisfaction of a planner whose residual risks column had remained empty for the duration of the flight. Laurabeth’s hand rested in mine between the seats. Ahead of us the stone house waited with its extra bed and its view and its locked door that would, against my original design, have to share a honeymoon with a child w

“Sienna, this is Clarisse Laurent. She runs the arts initiative.” Clarisse turned to me. “You’re helping with tomorrow’s auction?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Clarisse.” Her smile stayed warm. “Anyone helping Cass survive an auction has earned the privilege.” Conrad greeted Calvin, then excused himself for a private meeting. Cass mentioned that he had worked with Marcus Reed for years and helped finance Solara in its early days. He was gone before the conversation could settle around him. My attention stayed on Clarisse. I had barely turned toward the display tables when a well-dressed man stepped into my path. I recognized him from the auction guest list Cass had left open earlier.

The terrace was completely empty of other patrons, heated by tall copper gas lamps, leaving them in absolute, elegant privacy. A private waiter served them seared duck, roasted root vegetables, and a deep, velvet red wine from Salvatore’s private vineyard in Tuscany. As they sat across the small table, the quiet rushing of the river below filling the silence, Salvatore reached across the white linen, capturing her hand in his. His thumb stroked the back of her knuckles, his ring catching the soft amber light of the patio heaters. “Are you enjoying your reward, dolcezza?” he asked softly, his gaze locked onto her face.

However, I got to realize that it was turned off and there was no way I could track her location. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I cursed, banging my fist repeatedly against the window shield of the SUV. Glenn and Gerald spared me a questioning look without uttering a word. After a second of silence, Gerald eventually cleared his throat and asked; “Boss, it would be nice if you can tell us where we are heading to. I need to know the exact location to input on the GPS.” He pointed out. Clenching and unclenching my jaw, I brought my dead gripping glare to them. “We are driving through every nook and cranny of Tuscany.”

I laughed at her carefree actions. "Are you ready for lunch, Comrade?" She asked as we neared our destination. Rose and Lissa had won the argument on eating Chinese food. Well, technically it was seven to three against, but Rose definitely knew how to manipulate the male species. Christian had already agreed with Lissa and Rose because he knew it would be easier that way, but the rest of us were hoping for barbeque.