“Did you have a good time shopping?” he asked, his jade-colored gaze resting on the bags hanging from my hands.
“Yes.” I merely murmured, paying attention to the way his massive body was leaning back in the chair. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and white linen pants. Clearly summer attire.He wore black sandals, and his sunglasses lay nearby on the table.
I wondered what kind of business he’d been handling. Maybe it wasn’t even business. Perhaps it had been a new conquest. Another one he could use and discard.
The thought made me wrap my arms around my body, and for some reason, his expression furrowed, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob rapidly in his throat.
He cleared his throat. “There’s been a change of plans. We’ll have to stay in Reggio Calabria tonight,” he began. “In the meantime, I thought we could have lunch together today, and tomorrow we’ll head down to the beach,” he announced, making my heart flutter with hope. I felt even more stupid. “I want to take you to La Sorgente. I think you’ll love it.”
“Signorina, La Sorgente is a very beautiful beach!” Luca added, trying to cheer me up, but the only thing I could feel was a deep sense of humiliation. “But please sit down, Signorina. It’s almost lunchtime, isn’t it, Don Camillo?”
“Sì. You’re absolutely right, Luca.”
I obeyed and moved away from Luca, who was trying to pull a chair too close to Camillo. Without saying a word, I sat down in the farthest seat, making sure there was an entire table between us.
“Well, I’m going to join Martino and the ragazzi.”
My alarm bells went off and I sat up straight in my chair. “Aren’t you having lunch with us?”
“No, Signorina. I have some business to attend to.Permesso.”
My chest felt heavy as I watched Luca disappear into the penthouse. My pathetic heart had done nothing but feed illusions, and there was nothing it wanted more than to be alone with Camillo, but his indifference forced me to face reality and realize that my mind had never been as erratic as it was now. Not even when I was in the psychiatric hospital.
I turned my focus back to him, meeting his wolfish gaze fixed on my body. I raised my arms again and wrapped them around myself, trying to find some comfort. Something to anchor me to reality and help me face what I was feeling. It was fear mixed with a deep loneliness, and no matter how much I’d had the friendly shoulder of Luca Condello and his wife Donatella, and the company of Fabiano, I felt there was no one who could help me get through this.
Certain battles were ours alone.
Camillo adjusted his chair and turned toward the table, resting his forearms on the surface and clasping his hands. His gaze was still fixed on me, and I wondered what lay hidden behind the jade of his eyes. Whatever it was, it tied a knot in my gut.
“My lawyer has already taken care of what you asked for,” he announced, and I simply nodded. “Your aunt has already signed. The house is officially hers.”
I sighed and clenched my fingers around my own flesh. It was hot, yet a cold shiver ran down my spine. “Thank you.” That was all I said, lowering my gaze so I wouldn’t have to look at him anymore.
“Are you sure this was a good idea, Signorina Parker?”
I flinched slightly when I heard him call me that again. Every one of his distant gestures, every word he spoke, hurt me. Even so, I straightened up as best I could and placed my hands on the iron arms of the chair, clinging to them with all the strength I had left.
“When my time comes, I want my aunt to be my sole heir. For that to be possible, I have to get everything settled now.” I replied, lifting my chin, my breath catching in my throat as I met his somber gaze.
“Yes. You’re right…” he murmured in a hoarse voice and turned his face away from me.
At that moment, a group of women in uniform entered the rooftop terrace. They carried plates, cutlery, platters of food, glasses, jugs… I remained silent as they set everything out on the table, grateful for the interruption.
He looked at me over their busy hands, his expression laden with something ominous. I held his gaze and took a deep breath to calm my heart, making peace with fate. Surrendering to reality. And as I did so, I realized that the moment was approaching, no matter how much he denied it or tried to hide it.
The women disappeared, and he gestured toward the food. “I asked them to bring usbliniand caviar, since you liked it so much on the plane…”
I blinked, processing what he was saying, and looked at the open can on the table, with that black, salty stuff. “’Caviar’?” I repeated. “That thing on the plane was caviar?”
Camillo smiled, reaching out toward the tray of mini pancakes. “Sì. It was caviar.” He confirmed, first spreading a thick layer of crème fraîche on one of the pancakes, then topping it with a generous spoonful of caviar. “Here.”
I hesitated, watching his hand hovering between us, holding the blini out toward me. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so I accepted it without further ado. He remained silent, waiting for something.
I shoved the blini into my mouth. I wanted to drown myself in food; maybe that way the anguish would pass and the memories would stop burning in my head.
“Dio santo…” The murmur startled me. I looked at him, wiping my lips with the napkin, and was surprised by the pained expression on his face. “I should never have left that room, Piccola Furetta.” Those words, spoken in a tone that felt like velvet, had been everything I’d wanted to hear most over those last days. Yet it wasn’t joy I was feeling now. It was my pain deepening, like a knife being twisted right in the middle of my chest, robbing me of the ability to speak. I just watched him. “Perdonami.”
My breathing quickened. My chest rising and falling dizzyingly, my heart ready to burst. I tried to compose myself. I sat up straight in my chair and brought the glass of water to my lips, watching it tremble immediately between my fingers. I drank, hoping to wash away the emotions. To regain control.
