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I think for a moment before answering, “He’s all I have left, family-wise.”
“And?
“What do you mean and? And that’s enough of a reason to save someone.”
“Not in my world.” He shifts. “Did he tell you how much he owed?”
“Nearly a million.”
He barks out a laugh. “Try closer to a billion. Marrying you off to Caruso was only going to buy him a bit of time before his debts caught up to him.”
I’m trying to process what Alessandro is saying.
“A billion dollars? How is that even possible?”
Alessandro says, “That’s something only he can answer. From what I’ve seen in other situations, they borrow, thinking they can pay it back in time. When they can’t, they borrow more from someone else. Eventually, it turns into a vicious cycle that only a bullet to the brain can stop.”
I cringe. “Do you have to be so crass?”
“Just telling you the truth.” He stands, stepping in the aisle. “The SUV is waiting. I’ll meet you down there.”
I stand, too, sidestepping him before walking to the door, where the flight attendant smiles at me. God, I hope she doesn’t know that Alessandro and I had sex in the back of the jet. My cheeks flame as I rush past her, going down the stairs. There’s a black SUV waiting with a man next to the door. He doesn’t even glance my way as I climb into the back seat.
A few moments later, Alessandro slides in next to me. Something is different with him. His jaw is tense, as if he’s aggravated. Guess he’s done talking to me.
Sighing, I look out my window as we leave the airfield. It doesn’t take long before I spot the iconic Las Vegas Strip. I’m surprised when we drive toward it. I guess I never thought about where Alessandro lived. Sure, he said Vegas, but I didn’t think he meanthere, amid it all.
We turn, going to a large complex that’s still within walking distance of the Strip, and the SUV comes to a stop in front of the building. My door opens and I step out, looking up. Holy cow. This place is amazing from the outside. I can only imagine what it looks like on the inside.
Alessandro says, “Come, Isabetta.”
I follow him to the lobby, where an older man sitting behind a desk greets him by name.
“Mr. Moretti. We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”
“This is Isabetta, my wife.” To me, he says, “This is Bart, the concierge. I’ll show you how to get in contact with him when we get to the penthouse.”
I smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Bart.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Moretti.”
Before I have time to process how I feel about being calledMrs. Moretti, Alessandro puts his hand on the small of my back, ushering me forward. We enter an elevator, and he presses the button for the top floor.
We’re both silent as the cart lifts us high into the sky. When the doors open, I’m stunned at the view. Moving from the cart, I go to the nearest window, looking out.
“I bet it’s beautiful at night.”
Alessandro clears his throat. “It is.”
I turn and find him staring at me with an intense look on his face. I may have only known him for a few hours, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that something is bothering him.
“Alessandro?”
“I’ll give you a tour when I get home.”
My lips part. “What? You’re leaving?”
“No rest for the wicked,Dolcezza. I’m needed at the office.” He points to the phone next to the couch. “Just lift that phone and my housekeeper can show you to our room. She can also let Chef know that you are here.”
