EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
One year later
E NZO STOOD IN the kitchen doorway, watching Charlotte nibble on cornetti , a cup of espresso beside her computer. Her back was to the spectacular view of Sydney, her attention firmly focussed on Isabella’s face on the screen.
‘Don’t you worry, everything will be ready before you arrive,’ the housekeeper said.
Charlotte had been excited to spend the Italian summer in Perlano and spent a lot of her time making arrangements with Isabella, who had come to treat Charlotte as her own daughter.
It hadn’t taken Enzo long to forgive Isabella for not telling him about his brother’s visit. In fact, Enzo had forgiven Emilio entirely. It had been like a crushing weight lifting from him. It was Charlotte who had helped him find that peace, and while Enzo might never bring himself to trust people implicitly, he at least recognised that he could trust those in his life. Even his brother, who had been leading part of the company successfully for years.
The beloved sound of Charlotte’s laughter filtered through the quiet penthouse. It warmed his heart to see how well she and Isabella got along. Charlotte had been nervous to tell her about her true identity, but it had been a short conversation, with Isabella insisting she could always tell who she was in her heart.
He was proud of Charlotte. Not just for taking back her life but for living it to the fullest. Black-and-white photographs of her now hung in an artful grid in the entrance to the penthouse. The focal piece of his home. She had reconnected with her friends and had a thriving media presence.
His Charlotte had joined him in the light.
Enzo waited as long as he could stand for her to finish her call but soon ran out of patience and stepped behind her, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her neck.
‘ Ciao , Isabella.’ He smiled at the screen. The twinkle in the elderly lady’s eye told him she knew what he was about to do. Without warning, he ended the call.
‘Enzo!’ Charlotte scolded.
‘I couldn’t wait any longer, tesoro .’
He spun her around on the bar stool and kissed her as if he was a soldier returning from war. Her moan ignited his blood. With each day it felt as if their attraction only grew. So did his love for her. He hated being away from her for even a second, his business trips becoming even more efficient than before so that he could return to his love.
A month after they had returned from Perth, Charlotte was asked to take over her father’s company, but she’d refused. Not only that, but she had also cut ties with every single one of her family. But Enzo couldn’t let her languish as his PA, so he’d offered her a chance to head up her own department because there was no one he trusted more than her. He wanted his family’s legacy in her hands too.
‘You can never wait,’ she teased.
What she didn’t know was that he was waiting—waiting for them to return to Perlano, because in his pocket, safely tucked away, was an engagement ring. His mother’s ring. Emilio had handed it over to him when they had last seen each other. Every time Enzo felt it, his heart jolted at the future that he could see. Charlotte, beaming and happy. His children running around the estate just as he once had. It would be a good life.
First, they had to get back to Perlano, and then he would take her to the vineyards that they so loved, that his mother had loved, and he would ask her to marry him.
‘You have no idea, tesoro ,’ he said and kissed her once more.