Page 226 of Marcello

He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Why?”

Because if we don’t, my father’s goons will murder you.

I softened the truth quite a bit. “Because my father will track me down, take me back home, and I’ll never see you again.”

He smirked. “I’d like to see him try.”

I shook my head in annoyance. Dude had no fucking clue. “It would be a lot easier if we just left Naples.”

Romeo suddenly became irritable. “Well, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because my job is here.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I just picked at my food in silence.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Yeah.

A whole fucking LOT is wrong.

All the questions I had about him had been simmering for weeks…

And now they finally came to a boil.

“You don’t manage a hotel, do you,” I said, trying to not sound accusing.

I didn’t know what he did for a living, but I knew it sure as hell wasn’t what he said he did.

Was he a gigolo?

UGH.

It would break my heart if he was sleeping with other women.

Was he a gambler?

A thief?

A document forger?

A con man?

All I knew is he wasn’t a hotel manager.

Romeo stared at me like a deer in headlights. “What?”

“You never talk about your work,” I complained. “You never mention anything having to do with hotels. It’s like you’re keeping that part of your life a secret.”

Romeo gazed at me, his face blank –

And then my worst nightmare became true.

“You’re one to talk,” he snarled.

I felt like he’d slapped me.