me right now.” He gently rested his hand on my belly as his lips nearly brushed against mine. “My family. You and this baby. The rest of them don't matter.”
I wanted to ask who the rest were and why he spoke of them with such palpable resentment, but he trapped my lips into a slow, gentle kiss that blurred my judgment and distracted me from asking any questions. Something told me that was exactly what he intended. For some reason, Alessandro didn't want me to inquire about his family. Even though he maintained an emotionless exterior, I could tell the subject was sensitive and I had to tread carefully. The fact I'd never met a single relative of his, only deepened my suspicions.
Who were the members of Alessandro's family and what have they done to him?
CHAPTER FORTY
The Present
In the days that followed, Alessandro and I settled into a well-established routine. Despite my initial doubts, Alessandro had acted the gentleman he promised he would be. Even though we shared a bed, he never initiated any sort of intimacy other than a kiss. Every evening, he held me in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. In the mornings, he’d wake me up with fresh coffee and mozzarella sandwiches. We went on long walks next to the beach and played the same game of collecting shells. I still wondered about his family, but he always changed the subject when I brought it up. So eventually, I stopped asking.
More often than not, I accompanied Alessandro to the supermarket and helped him with the groceries. His men rarely followed us around. Despite his protests that he took additional risks more than he would have liked, he kept his word and I was hardly aware of their presence. The more he demonstrated this soft, caring side of him, the more he got under my skin. I even looked forward to the times we'd share meals on the large terrace that overlooked the sea.
Alessandro complimented my cooking, and I discovered I enjoyed experimenting with Italian cuisine. Just as he had promised, he cleared the dishes and stacked the dishwasher which made the task slightly easier. Nevertheless, that didn't mean I had failed to recognize the apparent effort he put into our relationship. For the first time ever, Alessandro acted like an enamored husband. He valued my opinion and showered me with attention.
Apart from the few occasions when he discussed business with Lorenzo, he never left me out of his sight. And he always felt guilty about those instances when he had to put his obligations as a capo first, assuring me he'd make it as short as possible. Tonight was one of those evenings. It was exactly one week since we'd arrived in Italy. I made lasagna and a vegetable salad while Alessandro retreated to his office to make a few important phone calls.
I laid out the ingredients for the salad and decided to notify Alessandro dinner was almost ready, so he could wrap everything up in time. I sauntered to his office and as I neared the door I heard him on the phone. His deep voice stopped me dead in my tracks from entering.
“Madre di Dio!” Alessandro exclaimed. “Are you absolutely sure?”
I dropped my fist which was inches away from knocking on the solid wooden door.
“The bodyguard?” He expelled a harsh breath. “I fucking knew it!”
Breath caught in my throat, and I could feel my eyes bulge.
“Very little involvement you say,” Alessandro bit out. “But they were both in on it, weren't they?”
All the blood drained from my face and I staggered back from the door. I was certain I knew what the conversation was about. The realization that Alessandro somehow found out what Broderick and I had done made me hyperventilate, and I fought to remain silent.
“No, Lorenzo. I don't want that.” I heard Alessandro assert harshly. “I'm perfectly capable of taking care of it myself.”
“What am I going to do? What would any other man do in my place?”
“Then don't ask stupid questions,” he snapped.
“No, Olivia doesn't know yet, but she’s about to find out. This matter cannot be deterred any longer. I'm fucking tired of playing hide and seek with my own wife,” he delivered with a tone of deadly finality. “Lorenzo, I said no! I have to go. I'll call you later. Don't you dare do anything until you receive further instructions from me.”
The clatter of Alessandro’s phone thrown on the desk echoed out into the hallway, as