Chapter 17
“It’s…an old gift.” Nicolas nodded toward her poster. “I forgot to have it taken down.”
Emily stepped closer. “Is that what Anna’s look earlier was about?” A grin tugged at her lips. “Nicolas…did you have a crush on me?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I admired your work. There’s a big difference.”
“Just admiration?” she hummed, her eyes squinting with suspicion. “Admiration you somehow forgot to mention, even after two months of marriage?”
A harsh breath left him, his chest falling from it. “Okay, maybe it was a…little infatuation.”
His throat bobbed.
If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was nervous.
“You were eye-catching. Brilliant. Fearless. I couldn’t forget how you told me I didn’t have to be like my father. Everyone else said the opposite: ‘Follow in his footsteps,’ ‘Be worthy of the Re name.’ You were the first person who made me believe I could walk the same path…differently.”
Emily hadn’t thought that their moment eight years ago had affected him so much. It was before she’d lost her spark, when she didn’t have a filter whenever her parents weren’t around. What she’d told Nicolas then was genuine, and despite how much she’d changed, still stood true.
“You defended me today.”
Nicolas stared at her. “Of course,” he exhaled sharply as if he was bewildered why she’d expect anything less. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Despite me not being as fearless or opinionated as I used to be?” she asked in a hush. “The version of me you liked…she’s not all here anymore. Pieces of her are gone. And honestly, I don’t think I want them back.”
“It’s not despite all that, it’s because of those reasons and more. So yes, Emily, I would.”
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth nervously.
His eyes followed the movement.
“You think everything about your career as an actress is tied to some people-pleasing, curated version of yourself,” he said gently. “But it’s not. Those sides of you…they’re what make you incredible. They show your adaptability. Your resilience.”
He stepped closer, his chest grazing her. “You did what you had to do. That doesn’t make you fake. It makes you strong. And now, you get to figure out who you want to be. Not who your parents expect. Not who your fans demand. Not even who I might hope for.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Just you. That’s more than enough.”
Her head was spinning like a gig. Nobody had ever told her that. That she didn’t have to pretend about anything related to her career, or even outside of it. Everything she’d learned centered around pretense. Now he was telling her something that challenged the very foundation of it.
Her nose was pricked by heat.
Why…why was it something she’d been longing to hear without being aware of it?
“I…” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never had anyone say that to me before.”
“Feels like your world’s tilted, doesn’t it?
” he asked. “I know that feeling. How much it means to hear those words. And if I can be the one to say them, I’d be more than happy to, Emily.
I’ll tell you until you don’t need to hear them anymore, since you’d come to already believe them at that point. ”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. His eyes were far too intense. “I think once is enough…thanks.”
His right hand brushed her cheek.
Her pulse jumped at the feeling. What was happening?
She got her answer when said hand wiped a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen.
He looked struck by it.
So unlike the emotionless man he’d shown his father. The man he’d shown the world.
This Nicolas felt exclusively hers.
The pad of his thumb caressed the side of her face, going down to the side of her jaw, slipping to frame the back of her neck. “Do you now understand the impact of your words on me back then?”
He guided her until her spine met the edge of his dresser. His free hand reached around her waist, opening a drawer. Inside, neatly tucked away, was a piece of cloth. “Might as well get this off my chest,” he murmured, uncharacteristically shaky. “Since the lid’s already been lifted.”
Recognition filled her as he pulled it out.
A white handkerchief embroidered with golden stars.
Her handkerchief.
From eight years ago.
The one she’d given him to wipe his tears.
“You…” Her voice faltered, eyes locking onto his.
“I kept it,” he confirmed. “I don’t know why.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I did.
Maybe it was as a souvenir to your words.
A physical reminder of the hope you gave me.
A star couldn’t have represented you better back then.
Even now.” His jaw locked. “I won’t take accountability for this.
This is all you, Em. All the compulsion you seem to have on anyone who crosses your path. ”
Emily noticed two things.
One: He’d called her ‘Em’ like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Two: She was floored.
More so by the look in his eyes. As if he knew exactly what this was, an admittance. And now, she would too.
“What should I do then?” She was lightheaded at this point. “To take responsibility for this?”
“Pretend you didn’t see it.” Then he stepped back. “That would be best, considering you weren’t supposed to see any of this in the first place.”
“But I have.” She moved forward, reclaiming the space he’d abandoned, warmth reaching her again. “I’ve seen it, and you can’t just tell me to unsee it. I won’t.”
His jaw tightened. “Emily…”
She bristled at the nickname being revoked too. “You keep trying to hide the good in you, but hell, I see that too. So, I’m going to keep getting to know you, Nicolas…whether you like it or not.”
His eyes went big before he collected himself with a deep sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Holy crap! Nicolas Re had a crush on me in the past. He’d watched my movies, series and everything else. He has a damn poster of me on his bedroom wall!
While there were thousands, probably millions, of other people who’d done the same in Emily’s prime, it still felt different knowing he had too.
Had he done what some boys did with such a picture? Did he imagine she was in his room? In his bed? Beneath his covers?
The thought should have creeped her out. Instead, it got her buzzed. Her legs pressed together from the outdoor chair to ease the ache.
She could hardly focus on what his mother was saying. She seemed to notice and waved a hand in front of Emily’s face from her stooped position.
“Emily,” Alessandra called. “Did you hear what I said?”
Emily knelt beside her, hands deep in the soil. “Uh…sorry, I’m just a bit jet-lagged. Could you repeat that?”
Alessandra tied a knot around a handful of herbs.
Turned out gardening was one of her favorite pastimes, second only to cooking.
This morning, she’d taught her how to make Cornetto Ripieno.
It was an Italian croissant with filling such as apricot jam, pastry cream, Nutella, or ricotta.
Nicolas’s favorite. It was surprising to learn he had a sweet tooth.
Back home, his meals were consistently healthy.
He’d grinned upon seeing Emily struggle in the kitchen. “Be careful she doesn’t burn our kitchen down.”
That remark had earned him a slap on the back of the head from his mother.
Emily had huffed which made him smile. His arm had encircled her waist before pulling her to the side.
Alessandra had eyed them, caught off guard by the display of affection and need for privacy.
“I have some business to take care of. I’ll be back before dinner,” Nicolas had whispered into Emily’s ear.
“Okay,” she’d panted.
With a pat of her head, he’d left.
“I was asking whether you slept well last night.” Alessandra was nice enough to repeat what she’d said.
“Um…yes. I slept well.”
They’d forced her and Nicolas to share a room. She didn’t know if it was a coincidence, but the other rooms were under renovation and Nicolas’s childhood room’s bed was far too small to fit him despite his insistence.
“She can sleep with me,” Anna had offered, which earned her the stink eye from his mother.
“It’d be best not to. You tend to snore.”
“No, I don—”
Her mouth had been covered by the palm of her mother’s hand.
Emily had been expecting a room big enough to host an armchair where she could seek refuge in. The size of all the others, including Anna’s room had fueled such expectations, but there had been none. Just the king-sized bed, two night tables, a dresser with a vanity.
The room had been comfortable, that much was true, but the entire night she’d been in and out of sleep.
Nicolas had opted for the floor after realizing the set up. When she had felt guilty and offered the opposite arrangement, he looked at her like she was a mad woman.
“You have a good touch.” Alessandra smiled as she handed over a trowel. “The plants like you.”
“I think it’s you who they adore. Just look at how beautifully they’ve grown.”
“If only I could’ve done the same for my children,” Alessandra murmured thoughtlessly.
Emily’s brows drew together. “I don’t understand. I think Nicolas and Anna turned out quite fine.”
“I can only hope so. I haven’t always been the best at standing up for them.
Most of the time, all I’ve done is argue with my husband about what I believe is right or wrong.
But that only ends up exhausting the children.
I think that’s why Nicolas avoids conflict in his personal life.
He’s heard too much of it growing up, I suppose. ”
Nicolas was indeed the type to put out a fire before it caught or simply refuse to feed the flames if it had. She’d always credited that to his manners, but now she saw it ran much deeper.
“I don’t think they blame you,” Emily said gently. “Or see things the way you do. I think they know you did your best, given the circumstances. Your husband isn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to. I know that firsthand.”
Alessandra’s expression dulled. “I’m sorry about yesterday. He tends to distrust people he can’t read. He assumes they’re hiding something. It’s not right, but…after what happened with his brother, I don’t think he’s ever truly trusted anyone.”
“What happened?”
“His older brother caused their father’s death to take over the company.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. That’s awful.”
Was that common knowledge? Because Emily hadn’t seen that in his background check. Or did Nicolas—or his father—intentionally prevent that from ever surfacing?
“He got involved with some men from the criminal underworld. That’s where the mafia rumors started. In the end, those same men turned on him and exposed everything to Riccardo.”
“What did your husband do when he found out?”
“He turned him in after Antonio confessed. Said he did it because their father always favored Riccardo, even though he was younger. He thought it was unfair that the company would go to him.”
That didn’t justify killing one’s own father.
Emily had seen how money could twist people.
Her mother had cycled through friends like seasons.
Maybe that’s why Emily clung so tightly to Zariah no matter the distance.
She was someone who valued her for who she was, not what she had.
Valentina had also become someone she genuinely liked over the years of knowing her.
“Riccardo tried to make him face justice,” Alessandra continued. “Tried to get him to serve time.”
“Tried?”
“Antonio took his own life.”
Emily gasped, instinctively raising her hand to her mouth, then stopping short when she remembered the dirt-covered glove.
“It was cruel,” Alessandra said. “He chose his own escape and left Riccardo to grieve both his father and brother in the same year. I knew Antonio before I married his brother. He was charming, the kind of man women fell for. Kind. Riccardo was always the colder one. I think he saw his brother through rose-colored glasses too. He never expected something so brutal.”
She kept working the soil as she spoke. “I think that’s why he hates pretense. Why he raised Nicolas and Anna to see through them. When I got pregnant again, he was terrified. He never said it, but I knew it. He dreaded the idea of having another son. I saw fear in him for the first time.”
“And maybe that’s why he accepted Anna’s path in the arts,” she admitted. “He didn’t want his children to repeat the same mistakes.”
“But Nicolas adores Anna.”
Alessandra looked up, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I know. I just wish Riccardo knew that too.”
She brushed the dirt from her hands and stood. Her gaze went across the garden. “Enough of the sob story. Your husband’s back.”
Emily turned to see Nicolas standing on the balcony, looking down at them. There was something in his expression she hadn’t seen before. His lips parted slightly, a cloudy look in his eyes, the kind of admiring that made her forget oxygen existed.