Page 21 of The Ruin I Chose

His phone buzzed and he stepped away to answer it. I wandered to the far end of the gallery, where the light was dimmer.

That’s when I heard it.

“Talè cu purtau u jattu… ‘na aciddùzza grassa.”

(Look who the cat dragged in… a little fat bird.)

I turned sharply. “Excuse me?”

The words were foreign, but the tone was unmistakable. A man stepped forward, coarse-voiced and smug.

“Lorenzo Marcellini,” he said, extending a hand.

I hesitated, then offered mine. “Roxanne.”

He kissed it—too slowly. His lips grazed my skin as he muttered something in Sicilian.

“Ti chinassi propriu ccà... e cazzo ddu culo.”

(I’d bend you over right here… and fuck that ass.)

I flinched, but his grip tightened.

“So, are you Marcello’s new muse?” He asked mockingly.

“Very unusual. Not like the women he usually dates.” He taunted. “You’re… round. Don’t get me wrong, my late wife was too. Loved grabbing her ass.”

I yanked my hand free, rubbing my wrist. My face burned with anger and my stomach turned. I felt small as though I’d been reduced to flesh and nothing more. Like all the strength I’d built was suddenly invisible.

Marcello returned, jaw clenched.

“Lorenzo,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Marcello, figghiu miu,” Lorenzo smirked, arms wide.

“You always had good taste. Shame you never knew how to keep it.”

Marcello didn’t respond.

I stepped forward, irritation in my voice.

“I’m not an artefact. Or something to be kept.”

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “Feisty. Even better.”

He walked away laughing, leaving behind a trail of tension and something darker. Marcello grabbed my hand and led me to the car. He dialled Martin and began shouting in Sicilian.

Back at the villa, I watched him from the window—pacing, yelling, running his hands through his hair. He looked like a man unravelling. Then he stormed inside.

“Pack your bags. We leave for Rome. Now.”

I opened my mouth to ask why, but he was already gone.

CHAPTER 11

ROXANNE

Ten minutes later, we were on the road in a sleek Maserati Levante, its deep navy paint glinting under the Tuscan sun.