Page 86 of The Billionaire's Destiny

“Bella donna. Oh, I see you, Adelina Tessa Marini. Place your hand on the handrail and lift your chin.” He hurried up the stairs. “Oh. Hmm.” He studied me and frowned. “This looks good, but I need a story. How do you feel about wearing your wedding dress without a wedding?”

I kept my smile steady. Santiago clearly knew more than he let on, and I found myself wondering just how much he understood about us. My thoughts tangled with memories of the dress and all the beautiful things Luca had created, which seemed lost after his death. Yet, when Rocco appeared in my grandparents’ home at the foot of the stairs, his eyes locked on mine, and everything else faded away as he spoke before everyone…

“Per te farei di tutto, mia Bella,” he said in a deep voice that was a sweet caress.

I clasped my burning throat, my eyes filling. Rocco said in Italian before everyone that he’d do anything for me. His Bella.

“The wedding we planned would have been beautiful, but I loved the one we had and wouldn’t change a thing.” Our ceremony was wild, overwhelming, sometimes even painful, but it was real. He’d left his family’s side the morning of Luca’s funeral with lawyers to my grandparents’ Westchester home, and married me. It wasn’t a lavish ceremony, but a judge in my grandfather’s office.

Rocco had turned his world upside down, giving up so much just to be by my side. He loved me long before I understood I loved him, too.

My gaze drifted to the bottom of the staircase, and I imagined that day and my Rocco.

“Yes!” Santiago shouted, jolting me. “That’s what I want to see in your eyes here on the steps. Think about that day and what you felt with Rocco. It’s love,è amore. It’s love.” For a moment, my fingers lingered on the handrail, tracing its familiar grooves, feeling the history and passion carved into its wood. The rail seemed to pulse with life, urging me to relive those moments. I thought of Aurora, Luca’s wife, who once stood here, inheriting a home built out of love for another woman, my grandmother. Nothing here or in our lives was simple, but like her, I built my world on love and family. That was what truly mattered.

“Hold that feeling in your mind, and this is where we will be,” he said. Suddenly, his assistants swarmed in, snapping photos and filming from every angle, while he sketched, pausing only to touch the lace, smooth a strand of my hair, or graze my cheek with his knuckle. I admired his work, so I surrendered to the quirks of his creative process.

The harsh pinch of the corset stayed pressed into my skin, combining with the layers of fabric on the wedding dress. “Sorry,I need a break,” I finally told Santiago, my hand moving to the tight bodice.

“Yes, let’s take one,” Santiago said. “And after, I want to see you outside in the vineyard. Choose a spot that holds meaning for you.”

I paused to consider a spot at the top of the hill where Rocco and I ran in the moonlight. There was nothing better than our summer.Hopefully one of many.

“Do you want to take the dress off for lunch?” Isla said. “I believe Rocco’s on his way back.” She checked her watch.

I wanted Rocco to see me in the dress again and hoped I’d give him time to make it back. “After the photos. Thank you, Isla.”

Santiago was about to leave, but curiosity tugged me forward. I slipped down a step, hoping for a peek at his sketches. His art always intrigued me; there was a depth and emotion in his strokes that resonated with my own creative journey. Could I find a shared vision within his lines? I had to know. However, Santiago decisively closed his pad shut with a sly smile, and in an instant, his assistants whisked the drawings away before I could steal even a glance.

“I don’t like clients to see unfinished work,” he said. “You as an artist understand?”

I grinned. “Yes, I do.”

“Good. See you in twenty-two minutes.” He turned, descended the stairs, and walked over to his team.

“Thank you,” I called after him, shaking my head and smiling. My stomach rumbled as I made my way to the kitchen, stopping near the stove. “What are we having today?”

“Pica alla carbonara,” Olive, the chef, said with pride.

“Be careful of the sauce,” Magda warned, and it was too hot to stay in the kitchen. She opened the side door, and I walked pastthe shelf with sneakers and a flashlight that they had left for me.Maybe I’ll take a run later?

I stepped onto the patio and held the handrail down to the vineyard. My hand cupped over my eyes against the light to peer up at the top of the main hill. The memory wasn’t one I shared with Rocco but of my first day here, feeling free. I drew in a breath, only to gag as bile rose in my throat. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I fought the urge to retch. But the air was thick with an acrid smell I couldn’t place, my mind sluggish and unwilling to name it. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, and the scent hit harder. Was it closer now? A cold wind swept by, but I stood rooted and frozen. My feet turned into blocks cemented to the ground as I tried to lift them.What’s wrong with me?But the smell gnawed at my thoughts, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was it vomit? Bleach?No, vinegar.Goosebumps rose on the back of my neck, and I shivered in a chilly sweat.

“Puttana.”Bitch. Someone called behind me.

“Puttana?” I repeated and turned toward the noise, only to have hands clamp onto my arm.“Let go. Let go.”

The grip vanished, and I turned again, and this time I saw him. Dirt caked his tattered suit, his beard was wild and his lip burned and twisted into a wide grin.He is evil incarnate.How had so many people been fooled by his upright façade? “I knew I’d catch you out here one of these times.”

I stiffened. “You’ve been watching me? How are you here?”

“You think I don’t know this house?” Judge Colby laughed, his voice cutting through the air. “Luca and I walked these grounds long before you were born. Don’t bother calling anyone. ”

I scowled at him, my blood boiling. To show up here with all the security was his arrogance on display. Did he honestlybelieve I wouldn’t send him to jail? “I’m not afraid of you. Howdareyou come here.”

He snarled at me, his eyes cold. “How dare I? Rocco gave me no choice. He took my job, my money, my family. I’m supposed to start over now? Whileyouget to live the high life?”

I pursed my lips. “Nothing more than you deserve.”