Under The Tuscan Sun Novel Novels & Stories

Nothing happened under my watch. I sat in the leather chair near the window, my legs crossed and my fingers resting under my chin. It was a bright summer day in Tuscany, and the brilliant rays penetrated through the glass and shone across my thigh. My callused fingertips brushed against my chin, soft from shaving that morning.

And I realize in my heart that where she once was the perfect fiancé, now she is something else entirely. The perfect wife. Except that she will never be mine. XXX Alyssa Russo POV If I can just pretend that this is a vacation in Italy, I feel a lot better. It’s just a vacation. The weather is gorgeous, even this late in January. The Italian sun beams down on us, and combined with the heated pool, it’s a great temperature out. Alessandro’s estate is gorgeous. Tan travertine tile covers an expansive outdoor area that overlooks fields of grapes and wheat in the rolling hills beyond.

I told him. "Thanks. And I'm sorry, by the way. For almost shooting you," he gave me a playful wink and revved the engine. He shifted into a lower gear as we drove through winding curves of the Tuscan countryside. Moonlight filtered through the cypress trees, casting an emerald hue on the terracotta roofs that huddled in sun-faded towns. "The restaurant we're going to has the most delicious food in Italy. They're family friends, and it's small and intimate. You're going to love it."

He turned his back on Julian, ignoring his brother Carmine, and held out his arm to me. "Let's go home, Sienna," Vincent said quietly. "The food here is terrible." I slid my hand over his dark sleeve, locking my fingers firmly into the crook of his elbow. I walked past my trembling half sister, past the stunned Don, and past thirty silent men who now knew exactly who held the power in New York. As we reached the heavy glass doors of the Plaza, Vincent stopped and looked down at me, his grey eyes burning through the dim light of the lobby.

Eyes on me, then the box. "What is it?" I slide the photo across the desk. He goes still. Picks it up. Turns it over. Reads it. His jaw ticks. Once. Twice. "Where was this taken?" he asks. Voice flat. "Garden. West side. Tuesday afternoon." "The day Caruso came." "Yeah." He puts the photo down carefully. Too carefully. "She’s in the house," Marco says. "They’re in the house." "We swept it," I say. "They’re not now."

“Putting on sunscreen?” “Put that top on and stop playing dumb with me. Why are you flashing your tits at my men?” he says with a clenched jaw, his hands balling into fists. I scoff as I tie up my bikini top and get to my feet. “You know, this is how normal people sunbathe. What could my endgame be for flashing my tits at your men, hmm? That one of them would fuck me because you don’t want to?” He advances on me with a deadly look in his eyes, then he chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re playing a deadly game here, Emilia—”

Emma’s POV: The morning sun filtered through the open windows of the villa, casting soft rays of light on the newly furnished space. It was surreal, stepping through the doorway of what had once been just a dream, now a reality. The Tuscany vacation home was everything they had envisioned and more. From the rustic charm of the exposed beams to the grand view of the rolling hills outside, it felt like a piece of their future had taken root here.

Gianna “Oh, I missed this so much,” Teresa sighed, holding up her face against the sun, her red hair sparkling in the sunlight. We had selected a sea-view restaurant for our lunch with outdoor seating since it was such a gorgeous day. The sun felt so good on my skin, and for once since the wedding, I felt relaxed and more like myself. With Nico, there’s always this underlying tension prickling under my skin. He is so intense and downright intimidating. But sitting here with my best friend, enjoying the sun and a crisp wine was really what I needed to unwind a bit. Especially after an eventful morning today.

"Is it though? Because you still look like you want to run another background check." "I'm just being thorough." "You're being jealous." "For the last time, I'm not..." "Yes you are. And honestly, it's kind of funny watching you try to deny it." I set down my fork. "You think this is funny?" "Little bit, yeah. The great Dante Torrisi, feared enforcer of the family, losing his mind because his wife had coffee with a guy who probably knows more about color theory than how to fire a gun." "I'm not losing my mind."

TBC Here's a sneak peek at my new book, currently ongoing in Good novel Please do check it out. CHAPTER 1 INTO THE LION'S DEN JASMINE VALE There are two kinds of mornings in my life: the quiet ones, where everything hums with sugar and peace, and the chaotic ones—where my apron’s on backward, I forget the oven timer, and I seriously contemplate crying into the batter. Today, thank the butter gods, is the former. It's just past Six in the evening. Customers were still coming in, taking orders, or getting a late-night coffee for the cold weather. Italy in the winter season is the best thing one could ever ask for.