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She sits. “Matteo.”
I turn to her. “Yes?”
“Wouldn’t it be great if we could date in a different life?”
I clear my throat. In a different life, I wouldn’t know her. She would have finished her degree, far away from a man who’s fourteen years older, and I wouldn’t be a void walking stick of resentment.
A different life sounds wonderful. The idea of sharing sunsets with her, naked in some five-star hotel, fucking into oblivion…. My chest tightens. “Yes, that would be great.”
“You know… we could do it. In this life too.” She speaks purposefully, as if planning a way around a minefield. Carefully, but each word is charged with frustration and hope.
What is she saying?
She wants to run away with me. It’s obvious. Given what’s ahead of her if she marries Francesco, I don’t blame her.
But she doesn’t want me for me.
She wants me for the freedom I can provide for her.
Again, I don’t blame her. But how fair would that take us?
“In a different life,” I say, emotion clogging my throat. I mentally stash away any silly dreams of sunshine and an alcoholic drink with a colorful umbrella and nothing other than a smile. Then I leave the room and close the door behind me.
15
Sienna
I stop applyingeyeliner and look at the purple Care Bear. It’s on the top of the dresser, next to the vanity.
Grumpy and the purple one stare back at me, side by side. If this were a scary movie, a lurking, eerie song would be playing in the background. Though, just because it’s real life, it doesn’t mean heads won’t roll.
I’m sure Dad would kill Matteo if he found out he fucked me. Or at least hurt him. Right?
Since we had sex yesterday, something has shifted.
I hate this hot-and-cold dynamic between us. Whenever I get too close or try to break a barrier, he raises another one and walls himself inside. Damn it, yesterday, when we had sex, I could feel it. I felt his deep emotion almost as much as I felt his massive cock inside me.
But maybe asking him about dating in this life was too much.
Time, though, is a luxury I can’t afford.
I finish my makeup. Tonight, Francesco’s family is coming over for dinner. His parents and sister.
I have to entertain the Carusos, be nice, and act like I don’t hate joining that family. I chose to wear black for this very reason. It’s a floor-length gown with long sleeves and a dramatic slit on the side, showing enough skin to elevate Matteo’s temperature—hopefully. I know he’ll take me to the main house and keep an eye on me.
A pair of red stiletto shoes finishes the look, and I choose the color of my lipstick to match.
A knock on my door startles me. “Ready?”
I inhale, stand, walk over to open the door, and see the hottest man alive. When my eyes meet his, a jolt of lust shakes my insides. He’s wearing a nicely tailored dark suit that outlines the hard planes of his body. I like how he can rock a leather jacket one day, and formal wear the next.
“Ready,” I say with a small smile. “I do know the way to my dad’s. And I doubt I can crawl out of his estate’s walls.”
“It’s my duty to make sure you’re looked after.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Of course. We’re back to stilted conversation.”
“No, we’re not. It’s not… easy for me. Keeping a distance makes things less difficult,” he says.
