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“By five minutes, idiot.”
I glance from Sandro to his twin.
Renzo smirks at me. “He’s an asshole. Always has been, always will be. And now, he’s an asshole in love. Glad I went cold turkey and currently am sober enough to witness this.”
“Christ’s sake. Will you shut up?”
“Please,” I add.
Renzo draws a zipping line across his lips.
“Come here, baby,” Sandro says in a low, gravelly voice.
I climb off the stool and step between his thighs.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in, then kisses the top of my head. With a finger, he raises my chin. “I love you. Capisci?”
My heart skips a beat. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
There’s a long pause.
“Anything you’d like to say to me?”
Renzo bursts into laughter.
But I realize love and trust are what bind a relationship together. I have his love, but will I have his trust after I tell him what I know?
“Riley?”
“She looks ready to keel over.”
I exhale the breath I’ve been holding. “I love you, Alessandro. I’ve loved you for a long time. But please, trust me, okay?”
“You nailed me in the arm with a vase in his defense,” Renzo chimes in. “Of course he trusts you.”
“If you can’t,” I persist, “you’ll need to uphold your end of our bargain and allow me to leave.”
“Not likely … but go on.”
“You agreed.” I search his expression.
“Yeah, well, a lot has fucking changed since then. Come on, Riley, what deep dark secret are you withholding now?”
“A week ago, I was outside your office …”
Sandro nods. “I know.”
“And you mentioned Conti for the first time by his first name.”
Sandro’s expression hardens.
“Emilio Conti. What about him?” Renzo demands, all playful charm vanishing.
“I swear. I didn’t put the pieces together until recently.”
“Fucking say it, baby.”
