The Sexy Enemy: A Fake Relationship Romance (Italian Nights Series Book 3)

15. Natalia

It’s not far to the address Francesca gave me. As I pull up out the front of his home, a throng of paparazzi is hot on my tail. I stare up at the imposing gates in the exclusive neighborhood.

This is it, Natalia. No turning back now. I press the down button on the window of my car, then press the security button.

“Are you moving in?” one of the paps asks.

“Yes, I am.” I smile as I listen to the security dial tone. This is going to be awkward if he isn’t home or if he is entertaining another woman.

“Why don’t you have a key?” another photographer asks.

“I lost it. I’m so forgetful,” I tell them with a giggle as I flip my hair and pose for them.

“Natalia? What the hell?” Alessandro shouts through the security screen.

“Yep, that’s me, your darling wife, coming to see her husband.” I’m hoping he understands what I’m saying without me saying it.

“Are you drunk?” he questions.

“Do you have a drinking problem, Miss Fiorenzo?” someone shouts.

“No, no. He’s joking. My husband is playing it up for you guys. He’s such a prankster,” I say into the speaker, my heart beating a million miles a minute. I can feel the embarrassment fester its way up my skin, burning as it grows.

“I’m joking, guys, just wanted to tease my wife for you,” he calls out through the security speaker. They all laugh at him as if he’s the funniest person in the world.

Asshole.

He buzzes me in. “Have a nice night, guys,” I say, waving as I drive through the gates, letting out a heavy sigh as I follow the driveway up to his grand villa.

Wow.

This isn’t at all what I thought he would be living in. Bachelors usually go for a penthouse right in the middle of the city, not a grand old villa set on gardens. It looks stunning as I come to a stop at the three-story villa. Moments later, an angry Alessandro comes marching toward me. Looks like I might be in trouble.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” he questions me.

“Moving in,” I answer.

He goes completely still.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m moving in.” I grin, loving that I’ve caught him off-guard as I step out of my car and make my way to the trunk. I press the button, it opens, and I reach for my suitcases.

“You’re serious?” he says, staring at me dumbfounded as I pull out my suitcases one by one.

“Don’t you think we should be living together if we are married?” I question him.

Those slate-green eyes narrow as he looks between me and the suitcases. “I assume you have more?”

“This is what I could fit in my car.”

His brows are still pulled together tightly as he continues to stare at the suitcases. “What are you playing at, Natalia?”

“Nothing. Like I was telling those nice photographers, I think husbands and wives should live together. I mean, you must want to be married to me if you haven’t signed those annulment papers yet,” I explain to him.

“And I told you I wouldn’t sign them until your family dropped out of the deal,” he answers angrily.

“Guess we’re at an impasse, aren’t we?” I say, shrugging my shoulders and smiling sweetly.

He glares at me. “And you thought showing up on my doorstep at night with a crowd of paparazzi, would get me to sign the papers?”

Yes.

He then bursts out laughing. “You seriously think moving in with me is going to force my hand on the annulment?”

He doesn’t need to be so condescending about it. I don’t answer his question.

“Or is that an excuse because you missed my cock?”

Wait a minute, what in the hell?

“Fuck you,” I answer quickly, making him chuckle. My cheeks heat at his crude words. Do not let him intimidate you, Natalia. He knows mentioning sex or the things we have done together will embarrass me.

“Please, I haven’t thought about that thing since, ever,” I bite back.

“Bet you’re thinking about it now.” He chuckles.

Urgh. I am. He’s a dick.

“Nope, complete memory loss.”

“Lucky for me, my wife just moved in, and every night I can remind her of how much she likes begging for my cock.” He smirks.

I’m moments away from punching this man.

Then he takes a step toward me.

“Don’t you dare,” I say, pointing at him.

“Come on, wifey, your husband has had a stressful day at work, he needs a release.” He moans as he continues to move toward me.

“Get away from me,” I tell him as I step back. He wouldn’t do something, would he? He is a Conti. Your brothers warned you.

“Ah, don’t be like that, babe, not when you went to so much trouble organizing your photo op arrival at your new husband’s house,” he teases.

“You’re an asshole,” I yell at him as he takes another step toward me. My back hits the car behind me.

“And you’re so far out of your league, princess. This little stunt isn’t going to get me to annul our marriage.” He laughs darkly.

Fuck.

This is going to be harder than I thought. You need to be stronger, Nat. Nothing he can do or say will make you back down. You are all in on making his life hell, do not let him take control and rule yours. I breathe in deeply and center myself, putting all my yoga and meditation training to good use. Nice, easygoing Nat is not going to work here. You need to channel some of Allegra’s bitch energy. Be like Allegra.

“I know, you’re a lot smarter than that,” I tell him.

Alessandro pauses, those slate-green eyes narrow on me. “Then what the fuck is all this?” he questions me.

“Married people are supposed to live together,” I explain to him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “We know this is bullshit, but continue to enlighten me with your ideas.” Sarcastic asshole.

“Don’t you think everyone will think it’s strange that we aren’t living together? Especially after we declared our love for each other.”

“After you declared your love, not me,” he retorts “What I don’t understand is, what do you gain from telling the world we are in love?” What I gain is a chance to take you down. “That reminds me, I need to call Francesca and give her a piece of my mind about that article.”

“You know Francesca?”

“I’ve known her most of my life, she’s Nico’s cousin,” he explains.

He’s known her most of his life? Why the hell did she not tell me that when we were doing the interview? Have they slept together? Have they ever dated?

“Who is Nico again?” I ask.

Alessandro rolls his eyes and huffs as if my questions exhaust him. “He’s my best friend, actually, he’s more like a brother to me. He was there in Vegas.”

I don’t remember him. I’ve blacked out a lot of Vegas.

“He’s on his way over as we speak.”

I still.

“Why?”

“Because Sunday nights are guys’ night.” He smirks.

Mental note about Sundays added. “And you want to play with the strippers without your wife interfering,” I bite back.

His eyes widen. “Wow, that’s where you went? You think that’s what happens on guys’ night?”

I shrug because yeah, I do.

“It’s poker night with some of the boys. Every Sunday night we play,” he explains.

“Cute.”

Alessandro pinches his nose with his fingers as if talking to me is painful. “I’m going to regret this,” he mumbles as he moves away from me and grabs my suitcases. “Come on then, if this is how you want to play it, then let’s play, princess.” He grunts as he drags my suitcases over the driveway, up the stairs, and through the front door.

“So, where’s my room?” I ask as we enter.

Alessandro chuckles deeply. “Follow me, I’ve saved the best for you, princess.”

Condescending dick. But I continue to follow him through this ginormous home.

“The villa is set over five levels. There are eight bedrooms and eight bathrooms. I have a pool, plus a garden, which as you know, is rare here in the city,” he says, turning and grinning wildly at me as if I should be impressed.

I am. A pool is hard to find in the city. Usually, you have a home on the outskirts of Rome if you want one of those.

He heads toward a lift and presses the button to open the doors. Is he serious, a lift? Reluctantly, I get in, and I notice it’s small. I can smell his masculine cologne, and I hate that it does things to me. I inhale through my nose to try to clear his scent as I look him over. He’s dressed casually in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt that is stretched across his broad chest, tanned, muscular arms tense as they hold onto my bags. I hate that I’m an arms girl, especially when he has good arms. I move my eyes up and take in his scruffy jaw—he looks like he hasn’t shaved all weekend.

“I’m assuming your family knows you’re here, or should I be expecting another visit from your brothers? he asks, breaking the silence between us as I follow him down a long corridor.

“They weren’t happy with me at all, but they know I’m here.” He nods. “Regarding my brothers, it could go either way,” I tell him.

“I’ll make sure to let security know.”

We arrive at a wooden door that I assume is my room. I was so lost in our conversation that I didn’t take notice of which way we went. I can see I’m going to get lost in this house.

“Here we are,” he says, grinning as he pushes the door open for me and I step into the room.

I still.

No. No. No.

It”s masculine, with chocolate browns, gunmetal grays, and cream scattered throughout the room. I don’t have a problem with the interior design of the room, but I do have a problem with whose room it is.

“Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head.

Alessandro chuckles behind me. “But I thought you said earlier that we needed to act like a married couple. Don’t married couples share a bed?”

He”s not being serious, is he? Sharing a house is one thing, but a bed?

Those slate-green eyes sparkle with mischief. “Unless you don’t think you can keep your hands off me?”

“It’s you I’m worried about,” I bite back.

His brows pull together angrily. “I would never touch a woman against her will. Ever.” Guess that’s a relief. Then he leans forward. “But I’m sure you’ll be dying for me to touch you.” He smirks as he walks in and deposits my bags in his room before moving into his walk-in closet and pushing things around.

“I will never, ever touch you again,” I shout back at him.

All I hear is his laughter echoing from the closet.

Dick.

I look around the room and take it in. It’s nice, spacious, and has a balcony off it. I can see the twinkling lights of Rome. What a view. Can’t wait to see it in the sunshine.

“There should be enough space for you now. Let me know if you need any more. I have to head downstairs, the boys will be here soon,” he tells me.

“I told you I’m not staying in here.” It’s a weak protest because I know I’ve brought this on myself, but I still need to try.

“My wife is not sleeping in another room from me,” he declares.

I roll my eyes. “We all know I’m not your wife.”

Alessandro holds his hand to his chest. “You wound me, princess. From what I’ve heard, our love was so big we couldn’t contain it anymore. That we’ve both never been happier. That we can’t wait to start our lives together.”

He doesn’t need to throw my words back at me, I know what I said.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this. Wish I’d thought of it sooner. I’m going to make your life a living hell, just like you told me you would. Game on, princess,” he warns before turning and heading out the door, slamming it behind him.

Asshole.

What have I done?