Page 33 of The Billionaire's Destiny

“Extraordinary,” I offered. “A walking historian, a thesaurus.”

“He was also extremely nosy,” he mused, and we both laughed at that. “Yeah, that was him. Don’t get me wrong, I do love my dad. I just dislike some things he does, especially how he treats you. It’s crazy.”

“I think I understand where he’s coming from. I come with baggage. Of course, he wants better for his children.”

“No one’s better than you, Adelina. You’re loving, kind, strong, supportive, and even more than that, I feel like I can talk to you, and you listen. You’re honest.”

My stomach twisted in knots, and I closed my eyes. Rocco meant well, but I struggled with the pressure to always be perfect with everyone in my life.

He rubbed down my arms and the goosebumps on my skin. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Just… ”

“Worrying. Stop, okay. Everything’s fine. I’ve a meeting at Marini Corporate later this morning. Why not go over to Luca’s house—well, it’s ours now. You can spend some time there and look at the package. I’ll meet you there to pick you up on our way to Milan.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” Visiting Luca’s house, now my house, was something I’d longed for since learning he had left it to us. The estate was grand, but his country home truly felt like mine. Luca had once asked what a house would look like in my dreams. I described a remote home with a library full of books and a garden full of flowers and fruit. When I arrived that night with Rocco to see him, I believed Luca lived a life of my dreams. He gave it to us and made me certain he wanted us to live it. He kissed my forehead. “Good. Who knows? Maybe there’s something in it that could stop the legal fight over the will.”

Olivia saying that she was aware of her father’s new will could only make things worse. However, the package had been prepared around the time of our wedding.Maybe Luca changed his mind?

“Yes. We can go over it when you pick me up.”

“Good.” I so wanted to know what was in the package, but I also wanted this time with my husband.Hoping it wasn’t the calm before the storm.

Afew hours later, I found myself back on the road, with Luca’s package settled in my handbag. My heart churned with emotion, each wave threatening to pull me under as I braced for our looming goodbye. Grief unspooled memories like old film reels, the most vivid always returning to the night I first met Luca by the lake. Was it fate or some intricate design? I never knew. Through every uncertainty, even after learning the darkest truths about him, one thing never faltered: my love for him.

When we arrived at the house, I could almost see Luca’s ghost waiting, his smile wide, inviting me in. Stepping inside, another memory flickered to life: Luca, both joyful and sorrowful, but now I noticed a new layer. Anxiety. He had secrets to share, and he must have sensed time slipping away.I’m here now, Luca. Tell me everything.

I retraced the tour route he’d given me when he showed me his office, pausing to marvel at the double rows of books. The worn leather chair nearby seemed haunted by Luca himself, lost in hours of reading. These books, like Luca, had become woven into my story. I sank into the chair, unwrapped the package, and foundPride and Prejudice, my favorite novel, now a poignant symbol of my own journey toward an arranged marriage. Luca knew how many times I’d read it, how little the rules of generations had changed. Marriage, children, and duty were lessons pressed into me since that first day in my grandfather’s Bentley. With Luca, nothing was ever random. I was certain he’d hidden a message for me in those pages.

I opened the book, and, to my delight, it was a first edition and wasn’t hollowed out like the book left for me in my room in Florence. Had someone told my father Luca sent me books? Perhaps he had found out and had used it to try to blackmail me. But that was a problem for later. None of that mattered now. Inside the package, I found…a note?

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. With Luca, everything had meaning. I let myself drift back to that night, replaying the memory. The book slipping from my hoodie, Luca’s quick hands scooping it up before I could react.

“What’re you reading?”

“Mother Night by Kurt Vonn…” When I didn’t know how to pronounce something,

I spoke the part I was sure of.

“Vonnegut,” he said and frowned. “That’s a dark satire and inappropriate for ayoung lady your age.”

At fourteen, I’d picked up Kurt Vonnegut’sMother Night, not grasping its true weight. I only saw a character pretending to be evil, punished for his deceit and crimes. Years later, with Luca’sguidance and my own growth, I understood good intentions could spiral into disaster, and sometimes, pretending was just another form of truth. Luca, too, believed he was helping my father, not seeing the pain he unleashed on my mother, Jacob, and me. Only after the damage was done did he try to make amends. Maybe this was his way of explaining himself to me? I was certain the next clue waited inside that book.

I scanned the library, starting at the first row. “Isaac Asimov,Azazel.” Alphabetical order. My gaze traveled up to the higher shelves, but the latter half of the alphabet was tucked away above. I climbed the ladder gingerly, as heights were still not easy for me, only to spot a hidden lift behind an archway. Refocusing, I traced my fingers along the spines until I found Kurt Vonnegut’sMother Nighton the bottom row. The book felt too light, its cover smooth and untouched. Inside, it was hollow, holding a USB drive, a sealed envelope, and another handwritten note from Luca.

Grandpa Luca.Tears pricked my eyes. He had known he was dying.Was he ill all along?Why had no one told me?I needed answers.

I held up the envelope and realized there were two. The first had my name handwritten across, and I quicky opened it and found it was a letter. This envelope also had a document, and I read the first line.

I, Luca Rocco Marini, being of sound mind…

Another will?

I returned the book to its place and carried the documents to his desk. Sitting down, I drew a deep breath and began to read, my heart pounding with anticipation.

My dear Adelina,

Of course you found my envelope. You’re so clever.