Page 163 of The Italian Obsession

She steps forward. “Why do you think you’re going to die?”

“I don’t!” I snap. “I was fucking blind drunk. Why would you listen to anything I said?”

“Because for the first time since we’ve been together, last night, you were actually making sense.” She puts her hand on my chest. “I knew something was off. Too many things don’t add up, and I knew with the amount of security you have…” Her voice trails off.

I clench my jaw as I watch her. She deserves the truth, I know she’s going to leave me anyway. I may as well tell her.

“For centuries, the Ferrara family has run Italy. They’ve done some pretty fucking appalling things. I didn’t know anything about it. I still know nothing. My father’s staff is limping me through it all until I learn enough to completely take over.”

She frowns. “Why were you so upset yesterday? What happened to make you like that?”

I stare at the floor for a moment, disgusted by what’s come to light. “I found out my father had a comare for thirty years. It turns out everything he told me was a lie and… I didn’t know him at all.”

“Comare?” She frowns.

“Another woman. Another family. They had a son.” Her face falls.

“Even my mother knew.” She stares at me, horrified.

“My brothers and I were the only ones who didn’t. I’m humiliated.”

Her face falls as she stares at me. “Oh, baby.” She wraps her arms around me, and I close my eyes at the comfort, even if it will be short-lived. I need to get on with it. I step back from her.

“I haven’t been gifted a normal life, Olivia. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. Your discretion would be greatly appreciated.”

“I’m not leaving you, Rico.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, unable to speak.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“You shouldn’t.”

“It’s too late.”

Emotion overwhelms me, and I blink as my vision blurs from the realization of her loyalty. “I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I whisper.

“You’re the man I love.” She kisses me softly. “Just be him.”

My arms curl around her. “I wanted to tell you I loved you first,” I say into her hair.

“You did.”

“When?”

“Last night, in front of about twenty people.”

I close my eyes in disgust. “Oh.”

She smiles softly.

“Was I appalling?”

“Completely. But understandably so.” Our lips meet again, but this time I hold her tight, her tongue dancing with mine as an emotional need warms my blood.

“I love you,” I whisper. Our kiss turns desperate, and I push her back against the kitchen counter. The need in me is escalating by the second. I need to taste her, and my attention drops to her neck as I suck and kiss on her perfect, creamy skin. She smells so good. She always smells so fucking good.

“Bed,” she breathes. “Back to bed.”