16. Francesca
FRANCESCA
I went by my villa to grab the rest of my things since I would probably never come back.
I grabbed my old keepsakes, the rest of my clothes, and some of my favorite dishes I used for cooking.
Wolfe probably had all the kitchen essentials in that big house, but it hurt my heart to part with some of the pieces.
It made me think of all the times I’d cooked for Wolfe when he came over.
It felt stressful at the time because of the secrecy, but in retrospect, I realized how beautiful that time was.
Wolfe texted me. You alright, baby?
He probably saw my location through the GPS in my phone and wondered why I was at my old house instead of at my father’s villa. Yeah, I just wanted to grab a couple things.
I finished loading my trunk and then left the property, the dust blowing around the car from underneath my tires, leaving the vineyard probably for the last time.
I took my time, the car barely moving as I appreciated the dark grapes on the vines, the sight of my brother’s villa far in the distance on the top of the hill.
My heart was broken at the thought of leaving this place, a place that had meant so much to me all my life.
But I could live in the past…or I could embrace my future.
I finally made it to the main road, my tires kicking up the last bursts of dirt before my back window cleared.
I drove on the paved road and headed toward Wolfe’s home and away from the winery.
My heart didn’t feel less heavy as the distance grew.
It seemed to be a permanent part of me at the moment.
When I pulled up to the iron gate of Wolfe’s property, I was about to call him and ask him to open it, when the gates started to swing inward.
The doors weighed tons, so it took a while for them to open completely and allow me to drive onto the property.
When I followed the road that led to the fountain and the entrance, I saw Wolfe outside.
He walked down the steps to the roundabout before he came to a stop, watching me like he’d been following my location the entire drive.
He was in his black sweatpants and barefoot, his tattooed chest bare, tall and wide and muscular and powerful. Despite how massive and strong he was, his eyes were vulnerable in their concern. Soft and delicate, carrying the hurt on my shoulders that he shouldn’t be able to feel.
I parked the car then got out.
He stood there and waited for me to walk around the front of the car to greet him. His arms were by his sides, and his eyes quickly took me in to assess my physical and emotional well-being.
I stopped in front of him, my eyes starting to water. I couldn’t find the words at the moment, every emotion hitting me at once and overwhelming me to full capacity. I eventually shook my head, because that was the best I could do.
“Baby, I’m sorry.” His big arm moved across the small of my back, and he hooked me into him gently, his other arm wrapping around my shoulders. He rested his chin on my head and held me there against him, the two of us standing in the summer sunshine.
I closed my eyes as I buried my face in his chest, feeling the comfort of my safe place, the only place in the world where no one could ever hurt me.
He dropped his mouth and kissed my forehead. “It’ll be alright.”
“I know.”
He brought my things inside and stored them in an extra room so I could go through it all at a different time. The only things I pulled out for the time being were my casserole dishes, especially the bright-blue one I’d gotten on a trip to Taormina.
My villa at the vineyard had been less than two thousand square feet, perfect for one or two people.
But his place was at least ten thousand square feet on acres of land.
It was beautiful and luxurious, but it felt far too big for the two of us.
The ceilings were fifteen feet tall, the windows were huge, and everything was on a much grander scale.
I loved it, but it would take some time to get used to.
The one thing that I absolutely adored was his kitchen. He had an eight-burner La Cornue range, two sinks, a kitchen island the size of a car, and a walk-in pantry that was bigger than an average clothes closet.
I walked into the kitchen and pulled the chicken out of the fridge along with the other ingredients to get dinner started.
Wolfe was on the couch in his sweats, texting someone on his phone with the large TV showing a soccer game. We never watched TV at my villa. I had one in the living room, but I only had it on for background noise.
He left the couch and joined me in the kitchen. “I can have the maid cook for us.”
“No, this is my joy,” I said as I rinsed the chicken in the water from the faucet before I patted it dry.
“Can I help?”
“I don’t need help.”
“Alright.” He leaned in and kissed me as he squeezed my ass.
He went into the pantry and pulled out a bottle of wine before he uncorked it on the counter.
He poured himself a glass then sat on one of the barstools across the kitchen island.
He pulled out his phone and continued whatever he was doing while I worked in the kitchen.
It was a comfortable silence, me cooking the chicken on the stove while the potatoes boiled in the pot. The kitchen and living room started to smell like a home-cooked meal, and the enormous house started to feel cozy like it’d finally been broken in.
When everything was finished, I plated it and carried it to the dining table.
He sat across from me and feasted on the food with just his stare. “Damn, this looks good.” Clouds of steam rose from the food because it was piping hot and fresh. My dining table could only seat four people, but his could fit twelve. Everything in this house was thrice the size.
He cut into his chicken then swiped it through the fluffy mashed potatoes before he took a bite. “Fuck, that hits the spot.”
I liked to cook because it was a hobby and a passion, but his love for my food was another incentive. He did so much to make me happy, and I was glad I had something to offer in return.
We ate in silence for a while, the two of us enjoying our meal until our stomachs started to feel warm and full.
He stared at me across the table, taking his time chewing his bite. “How are you?”
After I’d gotten home yesterday, I’d taken a long shower and gone to bed.
It wasn’t even eight in the evening when I slid into the sheets and drifted off.
I was probably exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and the emotional turmoil of my conversation with my father knocked me off my feet.
I was just exhausted, physically and emotionally.
When I’d woken up today, I’d felt a bit more like myself. “A little better…I guess.”
He gave a slight nod but didn’t follow up with further questions.
I never told him what had happened. I was just too distraught to put it into words at the time. What I needed was a safe place to come undone, and he gave that to me without objection.
I pushed a piece of chicken around with my fork and rolled it in the mashed potatoes.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay.” I continued to play with my food for a bit before I found the courage to look at him again. “He repeated what he said to you, that he doesn’t trust you. I gave him a piece of my mind about all that, but he’s so fucking stubborn.”
“Thank god you don’t get that from him.”
I gave a weak chuckle. “Yeah, definitely.”
He moved his elbows to the table and brought his hands together as he waited for me to continue.
“He said it was unfortunate that I can’t see through your lies and manipulation.
And if I want to continue this relationship with you, then I’m not the right person to run the business.
” I still couldn’t believe my father had tried to manipulate me like that, by withholding a promised position to ensure my cooperation. “And I agreed and left.”
He inhaled a slow breath that said so much without his actually saying a word.
“Our private relationship is not a reflection of your trustworthiness to my family, but he didn’t see it that way. We couldn’t agree on a single thing, and he wouldn’t see my perspective on any of it, no matter what I said. So I didn’t have a choice but to leave.”
“You did have a choice.”
My eyes had moved to the table, but they flicked back to him.
“But you chose me.”
I stared at him for a while, my heart swollen with emotion.
“You’re all I want, so there is no choice—at least to me.
” Our relationship had been relatively brief but had traveled at breakneck speed since the start.
I felt like I’d already had this man in my life for years.
Even a lifetime. After our first night together, we were just…
together. We only had one single date before we jumped into a serious relationship where we spent every night together.
I cooked for him like he was my husband, and he kissed me like I was his wife whenever he came home.
It made my father’s disapproval even more ridiculous. If only he knew…
Wolfe continued to stare at me across the table, his eyes smothering me with affection and possessiveness over the distance. “That means a lot to me.”
My eyes flicked down when the intimacy became too much. My heart was wounded from the trauma of loving this man. He didn’t let me hide my emotions. He demanded my presence in every moment, even when we weren’t in the same room together.
“I warned him that would happen, and I’m sure it pissed him off to be wrong.”
I looked at him again. “You did?”
“I told him you would never turn your back on me. That what we have is a lifetime commitment.”
My heart started to race so quickly I could feel the pulse in my neck like a drumbeat. It was harder to hold his stare because of how direct it was. His expression was blank, but his eyes could convey a complex weave of emotions in just a stare.
I’d been afraid to say those words to him because of the irrevocable bond it would create, but it looked as if that bond was already there.
I hadn’t wanted a relationship when I met him, but I somehow jumped into a marriage without making a single vow.
I knew exactly how difficult and deranged he could be, but it didn’t plant a seed of doubt in my heart. “I love—”
“No.”
Every single muscle in my body flexed so hard that I felt myself flinch. He didn’t raise his voice and his tone didn’t suggest anger, but he was so direct whenever he spoke, it felt like a harsh provocation.
A slow smile moved over his lips to dampen his previous abruptness. “He told you.”
My pulse was loud in each ear, muffling my hearing slightly. My focus was honed like a knife that went from dull to razor- sharp. I felt so much adrenaline, it was as if I were on the verge of battle.
“That wasn’t how I wanted my future wife to hear it for the first time.”
Oh my god. A cold sweat broke out on my palms and on my neck. We were about to cross a line that could never be uncrossed. About to embark on a future that would be as beautiful as it would be tumultuous.
“So you don’t get to say it first.” His hand moved to his chest, where he pointed a single finger into one of his pecs a couple of times.
“I do. Because when our kids ask about our story, I want to tell them that I loved you first. That I loved you the first moment I fucking looked at you. And that I told you when I knew you were ready to say it back.”
My life had irrevocably changed the moment Wolfe stepped onto my family’s vineyard.
I still remembered the first time I saw him when he entered my father’s office.
I’d thought he was the hottest hunk of man I’d ever laid eyes on, but I never expected him to be mine.
Never expected to have the love we’d grown together.
Never expected I’d be lucky enough to spend my life with him.
He continued to stare at me across the table, and I was certain he hadn’t blinked in minutes. He had a focus I’d never witnessed anyone else execute. The way he stared at me… No one in my life had ever looked at me like that. “I love you, Francesca.”
The adrenaline reached a crescendo and burst before it started to recede.
All the tension and the excitement and anxiety faded away, and then I felt a calmness I’d never known before.
A tranquil peace, a beautiful serenity. In that instant, it made the falling-out with my father irrelevant.
My life and my future were with this man across from me—and that was all that mattered now. “I love you too.”
A slow smile spread across his lips, and that concentrated look in his eyes started to soften. It was subtle and hardly noticeable to anyone who didn’t know him as well as I did, but I saw it. Saw the way my words meant the world to him, the way his meant the world to me.