57. Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Mateo
W e stop at a bustling local food market to stock up on provisions for the next few days. The vibrant energy of the market is a much-needed antidote to the heavy mood left by our earlier conversation about Isa, the Caruso betrayal, and papà ’s death.
Strolling hand in hand through the lively streets, we blend in with the crowd like ordinary people. Vendors call out, offering samples of their fresh produce, cheeses, and cured meats. We feed each other bites of whatever catches our eye—juicy figs, creamy ricotta on crusty bread, and slivers of aged pecorino.
Together, we pick out ripe peaches, vibrant tomatoes, and fragrant herbs, laughing as we argue over which loaf of bread smells better or whether we really need another jar of honey. For most, this would be mundane, an unremarkable errand. But for me, it’s magic. A rare and intimate luxury I never really knew I craved.
We joke and tease each other. Mari’s laughter is like a melody that lingers in my chest. It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced with anyone before, and it cements what I already know in my gut. She’s it.
This is what my future will look like. Us, together, making the ordinary extraordinary.
I can’t fucking wait.
After we stash our bags of fresh produce in the trunk, I drive us to one of my favorite spots in the area.
It’s a place untouched by time, and I want Mari to see it. After parking the car under the shade of a sprawling tree, I spread out a picnic blanket and set the basket Giulia packed beside us.
After all the taste testing at the market, neither of us is really hungry, but I want to linger here, to stretch out this time with Mari before taking her to the house.
A strange nervousness gnaws at me. That place is my refuge from the world, my sanctuary, the one spot where I can strip away the layers of my life and simply be myself.
No one but Tiero knows it exists. And even he has only been there once in the past five years, right after I bought it.
The smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the tang of sun-ripened tomatoes and herbs wafts through the air as Mari lifts the basket’s flaps. The familiar scent is grounding, but her presence elevates the moment to something divine.
“I didn’t think I’d be able to eat anything again after all that sampling,” Mari muses, a playful smile tugging at her lips, “but this smell is impossible to resist.”
She tears off a piece of bread and looks out at the view.
“And with this scenery, it has to be the most perfect picnic spot I’ve ever seen.”
She’s not wrong.
The landscape is breathtaking. Rolling green hills are dappled with splashes of amber, gold, and crimson, and stretch endlessly toward the distant sea. Vineyards cascade down the slopes in precise rows, their vines now bare after the harvest. Stately cypress trees line the winding gravel paths, their dark forms standing out against the soft blue sky, while the warm hues of fall add a charm to the already perfect scene.
It’s the kind of view you’d see in a glossy magazine ad enticing you to visit Tuscany. But in person, it’s so much more.
There’s a serenity here, a timelessness that most tourists never get to experience. This remote corner of the region is far from the well-worn paths. Exactly why I chose it for my sanctuary.
That, and because mamma grew up in this area. Her spirit seems to linger here, and sharing it with Mari is important to me.
“That’s my house over there,” I say, pointing to a small farmhouse nestled in the distance, its terracotta roof glowing warmly in the afternoon sunlight.
“What?” Mari asks, sitting up straighter, her hand lifting to shield her eyes for a better look. “Why did we stop here for a picnic if we’re that close?”
“Because I need you to eat more. So you won’t get hungry anytime soon,” I tease, my voice dropping just enough to make her blush.
“Why?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Because after I give you a tour of the house, which, spoiler alert, won’t take long, I plan on pressing you up against the wall and kissing you senseless,” I reply, not taking my eyes off hers.
“Then I’ll free us of our clothes and when we’re both naked, I’m going to lay you out on our bed, drizzle you with the honey you insisted we didn’t need a second jar of, and then take my time licking it off you.”
Mari’s lips part, her breathing a little faster now. Her cheeks are gloriously flushed. She’s already imagining it. Perfect.
So am I.
My cock hardens at the thought of her naked body sprawled out just for me.
I can’t wait to turn that fantasy into reality.
I pull up to the house, my fingers gripping the wheel a little tighter than they need to. That nervousness from earlier hasn’t let up.
Will Mari like it?
I glance at the farmhouse, trying to see it through her eyes.
It’s small and unassuming, nothing like Carloso or any of the other houses we own. By comparison, this place is almost painfully humble.
There are no manicured gardens, no high walls, no obvious security. I say obvious because, of course, I’ve got a system in place. In my position, I can’t afford to be complacent.
An uneasy knot tightens in my stomach as I wonder how Mari will react. She, like me, grew up in luxury.
Will she find this too simple?
I lean over the console, my pulse quickening, and press my lips to hers, needing the connection, maybe even a little reassurance.
I’ve never let anyone into my sanctuary. And Tiero doesn’t count, he’s my brother.
Mari shifts closer, her lips soft against mine. When I deepen the kiss and slip my tongue into her mouth, she moans, her hands finding my neck.
The sound, the heat between us, makes everything else fade away, erasing any worry I had. All I can focus on is her taste, the way she responds to me.
Every time we kiss, I’m falling so much deeper. I didn’t think it was possible, but it’s like a bottomless pit. So is my desire for her.
The need to have her come undone beneath me with my cock buried deep inside her is becoming nearly impossible to manage.
I’m nearing my limit.
And this is only day two of us being together.
I’m doomed.
This little getaway will sorely test my resolve to wait until our wedding night.
But I will.
Mari deserves nothing less.
I pull away when my pants grow uncomfortably tight.
“Come on,” I rasp. “Let me show you our little hideaway.”
When we step out of the car, the air carries the faint, sweet scent of wildflowers, and a hint of earth and sun mixed together. Mari doesn’t move right away, her hands still resting on the frame of the car door as she looks around.
The gentle hum of bees and the occasional chirp of a bird create a serene symphony. I watch her, noticing the way her eyes light up, taking in the surroundings with a look of pure delight. A light gust of wind stirs the strands of her hair, sending them fluttering.
“Teo,” she breathes. “This is wonderful.”
She steps away from the car, and I reach for her hand. She takes it without hesitation, her fingers intertwining with mine.
“And nobody knows about this place?” Her eyes search mine, a hint of curiosity mixed with disbelief.
I shake my head, the corners of my mouth tugging into a small, serious smile.
“No, I bought it through a labyrinth of offshore companies. It doesn’t as such exist. And when I come here, I make sure I can’t be tracked. That’s why I had you leave your phones behind… it’s why we took the Fiat.”
Mari nods, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she looks out over the landscape, her hand still in mine.
“How come your brother’s only been here with you once? This place is too beautiful to not come back to,” Mari asks, her eyes still taking in the surroundings.
“Both of us can’t disappear together too often. We take over for each other when one of us needs a break.”
“That makes sense.” Mari nods.
“Plus, Tiero prefers his island.”
Mari’s mouth falls open. “He’s got an island?” she asks, almost in disbelief.
“He does. But you don’t know about it, of course. It’s as secret as this farmhouse.”
“Of course, I don’t,” she laughs as we walk around the side of the house. “I much prefer this over an island. I like the idea of being able to leave whenever I want.”
“Funny you say that. That was my thinking too. And I want to be able to see if anybody is approaching. From this elevated position, I can. There are a lot of hidden security measures in place. We’re completely safe here.”
“And you’ve never brought anybody here?” she wonders as we step onto the large stone terrace lining the back of the house. Her eyes widen as she drinks in the view of the distant Mediterranean Sea. “Wow!” She’s radiating with happiness.
“You’re the first,” I reply as I watch her delight. “I’m honored,” she whispers, snaking her arms around my waist.
I pull her closer, needing to erase even the smallest distance between us. “Well, you are going to be my wife. What’s mine is yours.”
She smiles but shakes her head. “It’s still hard to get my head around that.”
I kiss her, gently but with intent. “Get used to it, dolcezza . Because you’re not getting rid of me.”
I have to swallow the growing lump in my throat.
I love this place and come here as often as I can. Alone with my thoughts, I can switch off from everything my life usually involves.
I’ve always considered it home. But now that Mari is standing here, I realize it was missing a fundamental ingredient. Her.
Actually, home is wherever Mariella Accardi, soon to be Mrs. De Marco, is.
“Now are you going to show me the inside? Or are we spending the night out here?” she teases, tickling my ribs.
Without another word, I take her hand and we walk back around to the front. I pull out an old-fashioned key, slipping it into the lock. Then I reach for the hidden panel in the stonework, enter the security code, and scan my palm. The key turns on its own, and I push the door open with a smooth motion.
“Fancy,” Mari says with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What do I do if I lock myself out?”
I glance at her, grinning. “We’ll add your handprint tomorrow,” I reply, and pull her inside.