The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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His words from last night play on my mind.

It’s only a matter of time before they get me, too.

What did he mean by that? Who’s going to get him? Is that why there’s so much security around him? And me? Why am I guarded too now?

Maybe I’m in danger by association. To be honest, it’s kind of freaking me out.

I snap myself out of my worried thoughts and text Nat back.

Do you want to catch up for drinks and dinner?

Tomorrow after work?

She replies.

Sounds great, see you then.

I write:

Good luck today, babe.

Knock them dead.

It’s 2:00 p.m. when we pull into the driveway of Villa Oliviana in Lake Como. My fabric sample finding mission didn’t take all day like I expected. It’s amazing how quickly you can get things done when you have four personal assistants driving you everywhere. They all seem lovely, and we even stopped for lunch. The maintenance man is tinkering with the lock on the big iron gates, and they are off their hinges.

Lorenzo pulls the car to a stop in the driveway. He seems unimpressed that the work isn’t finished.

“I’ll just walk in,” I say.

“My apologies. It won’t take them long to put the gate back on,” he tells me.

“It’s a beautiful day. I’ll walk. Thanks for taking me today.” I smile.

He turns in his seat toward me. “You are most welcome.” His kind eyes hold mine, and I can tell he’s concerned about Rico and his grudge but doesn’t want to speak out of turn.

“I’m going to try and talk to Rico tonight,” I say.

He exhales heavily. “I only tried to protect him, Olivia.” He shakes his head sadly. “I love him like a son.”

“I know.” I reach forward and put my hand on his shoulder. “He’ll come around. He just needs some time.”

He shrugs as if knowing I’m right but he only half believes it.

I get out of the car and walk through the gates. I make my way up to the house. The gardens here truly are spectacular. I walk in through the large front doors. The wind catches them, and they slam harder than I thought.

“Oops.”

I walk into the living area and put my handbag onto the side table, and then something catches my eye at the top of the stairs.

Sergio is looking flustered and coming down the stairs.

“Hello, hello.” His face is flushed. “I thought you weren’t getting back till late?”

I frown. His demeanor is off, or maybe that’s just me being suspicious of him.

“What were you doing up there?” I ask.

He glances up the stairs. “I was checking one of the security shutters. It was making a crunching sound. The maintenance man wanted it checked so, if needed, he could fix it before he left.”

“Oh.” I frown. “I didn’t hear any crunching.”

“Manual mentioned it.” He smiles. “How was your day?”

“Good.” I feel a wave of discomfort sweep through me at being alone with him in the house. Especially after the look he gave me this morning.

Maybe I’m imagining this entire thing. Did he even give me a look?

“I’ll just be out the front if you need me,” he says before taking off through the front door.

I stare at the closed door he has disappeared through. I’m having a serious discussion with Rico about the amount of people around here. It’s like a revolving door with different people coming and going all the time. I hate it.

Manuel and his wife are different. They’re the caretakers and live on the property. But the rest of them, quite frankly, give me the creeps.

I walk into the kitchen, put the kettle on, and I slip my shoes off. What will I do with my early mark of an afternoon? I wish I was in Milan. I could have gone to the gym. Actually, I might use the gym here. Yeah why not? Rico isn’t going to be home until later. I may as well. I make my cup of tea and head up to get changed into my gym clothes. I smile when I walk into my wardrobe.

It’s pitiful. Three measly drawers are filled with my things, because that’s all I own. This walk-in is bigger than most people’s bathrooms. I open Rico’s wardrobe and see all his beautiful suits and designer clothes displayed perfectly. It’s like a shop. I look over his expensive watches and his aftershave. I count his shoes. Forty-three pairs!

“What man owns forty-three pairs of shoes?” I scoff. “That’s just ridiculous.”

I grab my gym clothes and walk into the bathroom, and I freeze. The tube of lubricant is on the sink as if it’s just been washed.

Wait…

I thought I put that back in Enrico’s side drawer this morning when I got out of bed specifically so that nobody would see it. We use it when we get super naughty, he’s too big and likes it too rough.


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