Chapter Twelve
NINA
Seven Years Earlier
ITALY
What was it about this man I couldn’t seem to leave alone?
One minute, I was going about my life, minding my business, and the next, I was smiling at my phone like a fool, staying on calls for hours, talking to him about everything and nothing at all.
The time difference between us should have made things harder, should have made it impossible for whatever this was to last. Yet, sometimes, it was like the distance didn’t even exist. Ronan was always there, even when he wasn’t physically here.
I sighed, rinsing the last plate in the sink before placing it on the drying rack.
My hands were slightly pruney from the soapy water, and the scent of lemon dish soap lingered as I dried them off.
With the house now clean, I had enough time to get ready for work.
My mom was at work, working as hard as she always did, and I had mine to get to.
It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t even remotely good, but it was my only option for now.
I worked at ViviModa, a small retail store in town that barely paid above minimum wage.
The hours were long, the conditions were terrible, and the managers acted like we should be grateful to even have jobs.
We were overworked, underpaid, and easily replaceable in their eyes.
But I needed the money. I was almost at my goal—almost at the amount I needed to apply for fashion school. That dream was what kept me going.
After slipping into my work uniform—a plain black T-shirt with the store’s logo and a pair of dark jeans—I grabbed my bag and headed out. The streets of Tuscany were as beautiful as ever, but today, I was too tired to appreciate them.
By the time I got to work, exhaustion was already creeping into my bones. But as I stepped inside, something felt... off.
One of my coworkers, Alessia, stood near the counter, looking at me with wide eyes. “Nina,” she said hesitantly.
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re not on the schedule today.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“Someone’s covering your shift.”
“What do you mean? Wh—”
Before I could finish my sentence, she shrugged and went back to folding shirts, brushing it off like it didn’t matter.
Frustrated, I turned to leave, but then another coworker, Gio, stopped me by the door. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “We’re under new management,” he muttered.
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“The Romano family bought us out,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
My stomach clenched. Romano.
Ronan’s last name was Romano.
I didn’t say anything. My thoughts were racing too fast, too wild to grasp onto one.
I stepped outside, inhaling sharply, trying to make sense of it all, but then—
The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
I felt him before I saw him.
Slowly, I turned around, and my eyes met a familiar pair of light ones.
Ronan.
He shouldn’t have been here. He was supposed to be taking his USMLE Step 1 today. In New York.
But here he was. In Tuscany.
He started walking toward me, his expression unreadable.
I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word.
I watched as he closed the distance between us.
The second Ronan stepped in front of me, before I could even ask him what the hell he was doing here, he pulled me into a kiss.
A deep, toe-curling, earth-shattering kiss.
The kind of kiss that made my knees weak.
The kind of kiss that made my brain short-circuit.
The kind of kiss that made me want to give him everything.
I clutched his shirt, grounding myself as heat flooded my body. He kissed me like he was starving, like I was the only thing he craved, and when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm and uneven.
“I needed that,” he murmured.
I blinked up at him, dazed. “You’re supposed to be in New York.”
His lips twitched. “Right.” Then, just as quickly, he pulled me back in, kissing me again.
I pushed at his chest, breathless. “Ronan, the exam—”
“Already done,” he said before capturing my lips once more.
I pulled back sharply this time, searching his face. “What?”
“Baby,” he said, brushing a curl from my face, “I took the exam earlier so I could be here.”
I stared at him, still trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. “Okay… and here for?”
He exhaled, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “I bought it.”
I blinked. “Bought what?”
“The store.”
My mouth fell open. “Ronan…”
He sighed, his eyes scanning my face. “You’re tired, baby. You’re working too hard, and you’re flushed.”
“That’s the reason…?”
“That’s one of them.” His jaw clenched. “They don’t treat you well, and before I committed arson and ruined my reputation, I figured I’d buy it.”
I blinked again, my brain struggling to catch up. “How?”
“From my investment trust account. As my father frequently says, real estate and retail are always good business.”
“Ronan, that’s…” I trailed off because I didn’t even know what to say.
His hands came up to cup my face. “I never did it to make you uncomfortable or overwhelmed, but now I’m in control, which means you’re in control, Nina. You won’t let me help you with school, you won’t let me do anything—”
“You, yourself, are in medical school,” I argued.
“That’s not the point, and the circumstances aren’t the same.”
He was right.
I huffed, crossing my arms, but he tilted my head up with his fingers, his lips brushing mine. “Stop overthinking it and kiss me.”
I did.
I melted into him, and he swallowed my sigh, deepening the kiss, pulling me against his solid chest.
By the time we got to his car, I suddenly remembered something. “Wait… did you change my shift?”
He smirked. “I didn’t change it. I wanted you to myself today, so I moved people around.”
I rolled my eyes, but my lips betrayed me with a smile.
When we got to his house, I headed inside and immediately pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek.
“Ciao, cara,14” Lucia Romano greeted warmly, brushing a hand through my hair. She had freckles dotting her sun-kissed skin and wore a simple white blouse that made her blue eyes pop. Her smile was soft, the kind that always made me feel at home.
“Grazie, signora Romano,” I said, smiling.
“Mamma!” Ronan exclaimed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She smiled. “Il mio bel figlio.15”
The three of us spoke briefly before Ronan tugged me toward his room, shutting the door behind us.
I spun to face him, arms crossed. “Ronan, you bought the store I work in.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I answered that already.”
“Because I was being underpaid and treated badly?”
“Yes.” His gaze darkened. “Among other things.”
I tilted my head. “What?”
His hands gripped my waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled me onto his lap.
Then he looked at me, his voice dropping to something deeper, something softer.
“Eight words.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
He smirked before whispering, “I…”—then he kissed me.
“… am…”—another kiss.
“… in…”—my breathing stuttered.
“… love…”—my chest tightened.
“… with…”—his hands tightened around my waist.
“… you…”—my eyes burned.
“… Nina…”—my heart skipped.
“…Moretti.”
He kissed me again, but my eyes were blurry now, my throat tight.
I pressed my forehead against his, whispering, “Say it in Italian.”
“Sono innamorato di te, Nina Moretti.16”
I smiled teasingly. “Better, and I know you are.”
He leaned back slightly, studying me. “You do?”
I rolled my eyes before cupping his jaw. “Anch’io sono innamorato di te.17”
His mouth crashed onto mine, his hands pulling me closer as if he couldn’t get enough.
When he finally pulled away, his voice was thick with emotion. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Just like that, the gravity of everything hit me—him being here, buying the store, telling me he loved me, loving him back.
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I buried my face in his neck, my body curling into him.
Ronan held me tighter, his hand threading through my hair as I whispered, “I love you.”
For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.