Page 48 of The Billionaire's Destiny

I caught that familiar smile. The one he had that captivated me since day one. Butterflies stirred in my stomach, and I was amazed at how quickly I’d fallen for him. Still, tension lingered between us.

“I want to say sorry again. It wasn’t until I had to really think about it and everything going on—”

“Please, don’t,” Rocco said. “It’s over. We don’t look back; we go forward. We’ll celebrate tomorrow, go dancing if you like.”

“I don’t want to go dancing,” I mumbled.

He smirked. “Well, think of something you want to do then. But for now, eat dinner, get a massage, and rest.”

“You’re being bossy,” I half-joked.

“Yeah, I am, and you taking care of yourself is a priority.”

“Is this how it’ll be if I am pregnant?” The words were out before I could think about it.

“Did you expect anything less?” he said in a soft tone. I raised my head and watched him walk off toward the elevators.

A sudden bubble of joy rose inside me. I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, for us to move forward. But he still held back.No kiss.

I slumped back in the seat and rubbed my throbbing temples.Can I take aspirin?I did a quick search online.Small doses are okay. Good.

Buzz.My phone vibrated in my hand.Rocco already?

Rocco: You’re booked for a massage in 10 minutes.

Adelina: I don’t feel up to it.

Rocco was quick with another answer.

Rocco: You’ll feel better afterward. Just walk into the spa. Food will be delivered when you’re done.

A smile tugged at my lips. Was he really aboutto put me on a schedule?

Adelina: Fine. Thank you.

Rocco was careful not to mention the baby on the phone. But had he decided to treat me like I was pregnant? It was just his way, from what I learned about him. He may doubt that, but I do know that he didn’t like having his life dictated, and that was why he chose to make movies instead of staying at Marini Corporate. Luca was the same way, he liked control. And nomatter how much I tried to soothe myself, I was irresponsible and I hurt him.

I wandered from room to room, mainly to distract my mind. It was spacious, with a conference room and even a real spa. Nerves fluttered as I stepped inside. The staff appeared as if by magic, guiding me to a changing room. I stripped down to my underwear, placed the towel around me, and returned to the room, finding the lights dimmed. The masseuse’s hands worked their magic, and I melted into the hush, drifting far away. My mind wandered to Luca’s countryside home, picturing myself savoring espresso and getting lost in a book. The daydream grew: a little boy, our child, his arms wrapped around a heavy copy ofAlice in Wonderland, determined to reach my lap. He’d curl up in my arms, and for the hundredth time, I’d read to him. He’d point to the pictures I’d drawn on his wall, stretching his imagination and believing in dreams…

That would be perfect.My dream expanded, picturing Rocco swooping in, scooping up our son, and whisking him off to bed. Our boy would beg for just one more chapter. Rocco would kiss my forehead, I’d rest my head on his arm, and our son would nestle in. Of course, Rocco would give in and read two more.He’d love every second, and I wanted so badly to share this dream with him. Maybe one day, I will.

After, I took a shower, put on a robe, and padded to the closet to change. Some clothes were mine and Rocco’s. However, there were also stacks of gift boxes.Is this for Rocco’s shoot?

I was too curious not to see what Versace had sent him to wear. I unzipped the garment bags, and there were suits, but there were also dresses, boxes of designer watches, cosmetics, and accessories. It was as if a store had exploded.What’s going on?One of them had a note.

It finally dawned on me.Did these businesses send us free gifts?

I brushed out my damp hair, which hung past my shoulders, almost mid-back length, longer than I had ever worn it. A memory surfaced. I was back standing in front of my grandparents for the first time, and Mama was on the floor, begging.

Mrs. Belfiore’s eyes narrowed. “She’s wearing a hat inside. You didn’t teach her manners?” Her mocking tone didn’t move me to act.

Instead, I stared down at Mama. She gave me a nod, and I pulled off my hat, holding back the impulse to run my hand over my shaved scalp. A few sores had scabbed over but were still visible, and the pinch in Mrs. Belfiore’s expression made it clear she’d seen them.

Mama reached up and touched my back, and I straightened my spine, adjusting my oversized hooded sweatshirt and flare jeans.

Long hair had never been safe with my father; nothing beautiful was.How many times did he use any beauty in life to torment me? Hurt me? Destroy me?But that life was behind me.I’m okay. I’m happy.Now, Rocco brushed and kissed my hair and held me close.

I let it grow because, for the first time, I felt loved and safe.