Page 108 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
I should be satisfied. But as I watch her slowly walk into the water, I can’t ignore the whisper of doubt across the back of my neck that things are already different. A barrier between us that wasn’t there last night when I took her to bed.
I turn my back on the beach and walk back to the villa, ignoring the dread nipping at my heels.
Seraphina
Venice
A gondola drifts by on the canal below. The oarsman, dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped shirt and straw hat with a red ribbon, navigates the boat as the couple in front of him gaze at each other. Just before they pass under a bridge, the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box. They disappear from view, but judging by the excited squeal, she’s going to say yes.
I can’t help but smile as I turn and gaze down the waterway. Stone buildings line either side of the channel, some in shades of ivory or earth tones, others done in bright yellows and salmon pinks. The rounded dome of the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute stands above most of the rooftops. Gondolas, water-buses and sleek wooden boats maneuver through the greenish-blue waters.
It’s been six days since the Hudson Springs gala. Four since the photo shoot and our sudden flight to France. And a day since Aiden came down to the beach and shared what had turned him into the man he is today.
I glance over my shoulder. We flew into Italy this morning and checked into the Aman Venice. Not into a room but an actual apartment on the fourth floor that includes a living room with a crystal chandelier and ceilings painted with works of art that look like they should belong in a museum, an in-room bar and access to the rooftop terrace.
Sadness flickers through me. There are also three bedrooms. My room is, once again, stunning, from the pale green walls and sprawling bed to the windows overlooking the canal framed by filmy white curtains. But the separate bedrooms are a reminder that no matter how much Aiden and I might enjoy each other’s company, our affair is strictly physical.
My heart aches every time I remember his face as he told me about the girl from his past. Learning more about the trauma he experienced, the series of blows and heartbreaks, puts his wants into perspective. I understand why he doesn’t want to fall in love, why he doesn’t think he’d be a good father.
I understand it all. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing things were different.
I sigh and lean back, closing the window with a quiet click. I don’t wish Aiden was different. I respect him for who he is. I liked him before, and I like him even more now.
Especially after the jaw-dropping news I received this morning.
I pick up my phone off the bed and read Mona’s text again for the fifth time. It’s a long rambling message with numerous exclamation marks as she thanks me for the endowment fund Aiden set up. Fifty-five million dollars with a withdrawal rate that will give Grace’s Refuge an operating budget of two million dollars every year.
He hasn’t said a word. We’ve spent almost every moment together the last few days. We’ve been getting to really know each other. What movies we liked, books we read, places we’ve visited. Aiden’s vacation destinations were much more glamorous than mine, but he liked hearing about my summer vacations with my parents, our trips to Maine.
We’ve also been thoroughly enjoying our newfound affair. Our picnic on the beach culminated in him carrying me up the stairs to his room and making love to me on his bed. After dinner he showed me to the library, where we ended up on the rug, completely naked as he cradled my hips in his hands and took me from behind.
But eventually he left. Just like he said he would.
I toss my phone onto my bed. I told myself I could do this. Told Aiden I could remain detached. But the more time I spend with him, the more intimate glimpses I get to see of the man behind the suit, the more I’m coming to realize that my crush ran far deeper than I ever realized. Every minute I spend with Aiden is teasing those suppressed feelings to the surface.
The sound of a door opening and closing yanks me from my reverie.
“Seraphina?”
I suck in a breath, grab my phone and head out to the living room. Aiden is standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a black tie. He looks up and smiles when he sees me. My heart twists. He’s been smiling more lately. He seems so much more relaxed, happy, even with the New Field deal still hanging in the balance.
“You look beautiful.”
Another of my New York shopping spree dresses, a turquoise dress with a matching belt held together by a gold butterfly and trimmed with white lace at the sleeves and hem.
“Thank you.” My breath rushes out. “Hopefully it impresses Mr. Randolph.”
“You’ll do great, as you always do.” He holds out his arm. “We’re meeting him in the hotel bar.”
Five minutes later we’re seated on a long white couch in front of a window overlooking the hotel garden. The walls are covered in red and gold silk, with intricate frescoes adorning the ceiling. A bartender in a black suit stands behind the bar, expertly mixing cocktails as he switches from Italian to English to French as he chats with guests. I’m sipping a French 75 and trying to keep my nerves under control as my gaze moves between the gold chandelier, the smartly dressed guests and the doorway.
Aiden is reclining on the sofa, a whiskey sour in one hand. To the average passerby, he looks relaxed. But there’s a tightness in his posture, faint lines next to his mouth.
I lay my hand on his knee. “We’ll make this work, Aiden.”
His eyes flick to me. “I hope so.”
I wish he’d confide in me. Tell me the real reason he’s pursuing the takeover of New Field so aggressively. I have a feeling that whatever it is, it could also sway Randolph’s opinion.
