Page 22 of Diego

“Donna is six months pregnant,” Edoardo says. “Dad would probably murder you if you woke her up.”

“Hell, Donna would murder him,” Alessio says, chuckling.

“I declined.”

“Smart.”

Matteo changes the subject.

“How long are you thinking until you find a place?”

“Hopefully not long. I’m looking at places tomorrow.”

“With Meridian?” Edoardo asks.

“Yeah.”

That gets a few nods around the island. They all know about the acquisition, so I don’t need to explain it.

Tomasso reaches for the wine. “Find something with enough guest rooms.”

“Why?”

“So we can all move in with you.”

I look around the kitchen at the five of them before I mutter a curse in Italian.

That earns a round of laughter, and for the first time since I agreed to stay here, the idea of it feels slightly less like a punishment.

Dinner eventually ends with very little ceremony. Plates disappear into the dishwasher, leftovers go into containers, and everyone starts drifting toward whatever they had planned for the rest of the evening.

I take my glass upstairs to inspect the room that has apparently been prepared for me with all the care of a mildly hostile hotel staff.

It is better than the photograph suggested.

There is a large bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and enough closet space for the clothing that arrived earlier. My garment bags are already hanging inside, and someone has stacked my shoes along the bottom shelf with surprising precision. Several boxes are lined against one wall, each labeled in black marker.

BEDROOM. OFFICE. BATHROOM. MISC.

I loosen my tie and open the closet door wider. Most of my suits made it here, which matters more than most other things. The movers also brought enough of my personal things that the room feels a bit less temporary, though there is no disguising the fact that I am sleeping in someone else’s house.

Someone knocks once against the open door.

I turn.

Edoardo leans against the frame. “You need anything?”

“No.”

“Bathroom’s through there.”

“I found it.”

“Towels are in the cabinet.”

“Thank you.” I look around the room again. “Who dealt with the movers?”

“Mostly me and Alessio. Tomasso supervised.”