CHAPTER NINETEEN #2
“Mrs. Marini, Mrs. Marini. Why is your father in Rome? Did you agree to settle before he could file a lawsuit against you?”
“Is the restraining order necessary?”
“Are you having a boy or a girl?”
I bit my cheek, fighting back a grimace.
Even with rumors of my father’s firing, the press played their game, and he seemed to be winning.
Memories of Mama, Jacob, and everything we’d endured flashed through me.
To the world, I was now the problem child.
It felt like Judge Colby was daring me to reveal his secrets.
Zane opened the door, and I quickly climbed into the car.
However, he promptly reopened it, and Rocco climbed inside.
His hair was still damp from the shower.
He immediately removed his suit jacket and hung it on a hook.
Zane closed the privacy window, and we pulled away from the front of the hotel.
“Your father’s in Rome,” Rocco announced, his tone surprisingly even.
“Yeah. Zane told me,” I said and cleared my throat. “Was that the reason you had an emergency meeting with Gunnar last night?”
“We had other things to discuss about Luca’s will. But don’t worry. Your father won’t be a concern anymore.” He sounded quite final in his words, and I was curious.
“Why not?”
“Because I won’t let a damn thing happen to you.” His hand clasped mine and sent a spark to my skin. I glanced up at him, and he was watching me. “All right?” He let me go and reached inside his blazer pocket. “I believe you were trying to retrieve this in the bathroom.” It was my charm bracelet.
“Thanks.” He brushed his fingers over the stones before fastening the bracelet on my wrist, as if sealing his claim. My pulse raced at his nearness, his focused tenderness. I ached to reach for him, but fear held me back. What if he told me not to?
He brushed my wrist with his thumb, feeling my pulse. “You’re nervous.”
“No, I’m not,” I lied.
“Don’t lie. You never need to lie to me.” There was annoyance tinged with sadness in his tone. My hiding things had made him doubt me, and I needed to do whatever I could to be open with him, even if it embarrassed me.
So, I took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Being close to you…you touching me makes me feel…excited.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I do it.” His voice was amused.
“I know…and I, uh, didn’t mean to…interrupt your shower.”
He slowly let my wrist go and sat back. “It’s fine.”
I scrunched up my face. “Is it? Are we…fine? I mean, I know you’re still upset with me?”
“I am,” he said in an even tone.
I deflated inside. Nothing had changed. So, why did I bring that up? “Forget it. You don’t have to explain why you did it—”
“I have no intention of explaining why I masturbated, Adelina.”
I smirked at his frankness, but no kiss and a rush to the shower? My father often did the same thing when he cheated.
“Masturbation isn’t the problem. Why did you rush off to the shower? Did something else happen at the photoshoot with your female photographer?”
His eyes widened then narrowed. “Hell no. I was covered in makeup and sand from a desert scene. I’m still bruised from the accident.”
“Oh, yeah,” I murmured, my face heating.
He snorted. “I can’t even believe you’d think that about me.”
The tension in my body eased some. “Fine. I apologize, but what am I supposed to think?”
“That I masturbated in the shower. Something you’ve watched me do before.”
I lifted my chin. “But we…I was waiting for you.”
“And it didn’t take too much of your time. Or are you mad because I didn’t invite you in?”
I pursed my lips. “No, I wasn’t mad or expecting anything. Seriously. Let’s drop it.”
“I never brought it up, and stop lying. You’re not good at it.”
I wanted to be angry, but he was right. Watching him masturbate had bruised my ego. Still, it was his choice, and I had no right to question it.
We rode in silence for a few minutes until I changed the subject. “I heard from my grandparents.”
“About the flowers? They left me a message about sending them to the hotel. How are they?”
“Good. We texted before you arrived.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah, it was good actually.” I recapped our previous messages about the photo and how I resembled my grandmother.
“Oh, I’d love to see the photo. We’ll definitely have it enlarged and framed.” I handed it over to him, and his eyes widened. “Wow. Constance looks beautiful, just like you.”
My heart melted. “Thank you.”
“You know what my mom said when she saw you the first time?”
“What?”
“She said, ‘She’s too beautiful. Pretty girls are spoiled brats.” He laughed, and I let out a groan.
“Olivia’s pretty.” So, I guess she’s talking about herself.
“She was joking. Your mom was a stunner. My dad said everyone wanted to court Lorelei Belfiore.”
I laughed. “Never say she’s not stunning now. I think she’s going through a midlife crisis.”
“Why do you say that?”
I showed him the new photo with her blonde hair.
His eyes widened. “Whoa, Mama’s scorching hot. Is this a Tinder photo?”
I swiped his arm, and we laughed again; it eased a lot of the tension inside me. “But yeah. It looks like Mama’s going through something, and I don’t know if I’ve told you, but thank you for giving her your home on the Upper West Side. It was incredibly generous. She loves it.”
“She’s family. We’re all a family now.” I smiled, and he took my hand again and squeezed it. “Let’s put all differences aside and enjoy ourselves.”
Happiness rose inside me, and I held onto it because that was all I wanted.