Page 6 of The Billionaire's Destiny

My heart ached for what they’d been through, but it didn’t explain why he blamed her.

“I’m sorry, but that’s no excuse for mistreating you. It’s not your fault.”

“It is, and it isn’t,” she said ruefully. “It’s the only thing we fight about. Nico and I love each other; you saw a bad day, we’ve lived thousands of good ones. Our Rocco’s strong-willed and determined. He has the talent, and with the two billion that I fought with my father to include in his will, he will be—”

I gasped. “Youknewabout the new will?”

She lowered her head. “Not exactly. My father talked about making a new one—”

“When?”

“Early this year. He was worried. Rocco’s moving ahead without Marini Corporate, but wanting to use the trust to fund a studio bothered him. When he told him he won’t have kids for years, that made him even more upset. So…”

“The new will’s valid? Oh my God. You should’ve warned your son.”

Olivia flinched. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything. My father was set in his ways, but I did fight for more money.And I didn’t help Mr. Sears either. But if the litigation proceeds to a lawsuit, he could compel us to produce our emails and text messages regarding it.”

She’d been the only calm Marini at Luca’s will reading, and now I understood why. Her communications with Luca about the new will could support Mr. Sears and Marini Trust’s claims. Nico had been right. Olivia could have easily warned Rocco about Luca’s plans before he died. “How could you hurt your son?”

She touched her throat. “I don’t believe I have. If you have a child, the legacy laws would be impossible for Mr. Sears to overcome in litigation. Please try to understand. We possess the wealth and power only because we have learned to prioritize our family and legacy. I never meant to hurt you and Rocco.”

I scoffed. “Yes, you did. You wanted to control our marriage.”

She straightened. “I don’t, but we both know we all answer to the family trust. I made sure you and Rocco have more money for children than any Marini ever has. Why are you fighting me? Your own family put having children in your marriage contract. You have to have children anyway.”

My mouth opened to respond, but nothing came. Arguing with Olivia was futile, and what she said made sense. With Rocco injured and the new will possibly valid, could we even fight anymore?

Two days after the accident, Zane and I arrived at the hospital to bring Rocco home. We found him already outside his room, standing at the end of the corridor, deep in conversation with someone. He had been kept in the hospital a day longer as the doctor was still concerned about the concussion. He ran more tests and gave Rocco some much needed rest.

Even with his injuries, his magnetic presence commanded everyone’s attention. With each confident step closer, my awareness of him sharpened, my pulse quickened, and my skin flushed. He was dressed in a black button-down shirt and wool slacks, his left arm still in a sling. His dark hair was tousled, his jaw rough with a beard. His head turned. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine, stealing my breath. A wild urgency surged inside of me. And all I wanted was to run to him, to lose myself in his strength.

Tears streamed down my face as I hurried forward. He lifted his free arm and my arms wrapped around him. I melted against him, relief flooding every part of me.

Rocco groaned, tilting my chin and capturing my lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. The ache of missing him crashed over me. When we finally broke apart, I buried my face in his chest, sobbing into his shirt. “Oh, Wait. Is this hurting you?”

He kissed my forehead. “No, Bella. Please don’t cry. I’ll be okay.”

“We at Santa Maria Nuevo Hospital are here to accommodate you in any way you need, Mr. Marini. We’ve prepared your exit,” the gentleman in the suit spoke loudly in Italian, bringing our attention back to him.

Rocco nodded. “Thank you.”

We moved in silence down a hallway that ended at an emergency exit. A security officer strode ahead, disarmed the alarm, and radioed in. Moments later, Rick appeared, his expression serious. “We have press.”

I pulled my hood up, put on sunglasses, and smiled. “Ready?”

“It’s so good to see you.” He slipped his free arm around my shoulders, and we hurried with Rick toward the car, flashes popping as photographers snapped away. Police pressed against the barriers while we ducked inside, and the door thudded shut.

I choked back a sob and lowered my head, trembling uncontrollably. He quickly closed the privacy partition between the front and back seats, then sat closer to me. I could breathe in his ginger cologne, a small comfort in the chaos swirling around us.

Rocco’s fingers traced my cheek, sending a shiver through me. “Bella,” he whispered, leaning in. I swallowed, my eyes squeezed shut, and shook my head. “My sweet Adelina,” he murmured, fingertips brushing my chin as his lips kissed away my tears.

I sniffled, heat rising in my body. His hand slipped beneath my pullover, gliding over my bare stomach. Skin to skin, that simple touch removed any distance between us. And I could hear him so clearly in my head.You’re all mine. Our connection, our bond, was so precious to him. I trembled, my heart racing.

“I tried to call so many times. I was so scared.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Bella. I did everything I could to get back to you.”

I met his eyes, my heart tightening at the tenderness there. He brushed my hair from my shoulder and sighed. “How are you, my lovely? I’ve been out of my mind trying to get back to you. Please, don’t cry. I’m going to be fine,” he whispered and kissed my face. He wore his heart openly, giving me all of himself. I saw how deeply he needed me, how real his feelings for me were.