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“Okay, well, you said that.”

“But…”

“But what?” I ask him.

“But maybe things change.”

“Are you telling me that you and Lucinda are getting married? Like, I’m confused here.”

“Maybe your dilemma made me…”

My heart grows cold as I stare at him. I pull my hands back from him.

“What are you trying to say, Liam?”

“I have a lot to tell you,” he says. “And I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Liam, you’re scaring me. What is going on here? ActualIy, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?” he says.

“How did my dad know you were British?”

“What?” He looks confused. “I’m not really sure what you’re talking about.”

“When I told my dad I got a job, he asked me if I could understand your accent. But I didn’t tell him you were English. So, I’m just curious, now that you’re acting all weird, how did he know?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Liam, what is going on?”

“Your father and I are in the middle of a business deal.” He looks nervous. “And he had some requirements before the business deal could go through.”

“And that would be?” I say.

“Let’s just say that I’ve been trying to fulfill those requirements, but it looks like there have been some complications in his life. Like, you know, he needs to get you married.”

“Okay, and…”

“I’m going to be your husband, Elisabetta. I’m going to be the man you’re fucking on your wedding night.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Liam

The taxi ride to the hotel is silent. I can still feel the shock and hatred burning from Elisabetta’s eyes. I don’t regret having told her that I’m going to be her future husband, but I do wish that she understood that I’d done it for her.

“Are you not going to speak to me for the rest of the trip?”

“I’ll speak to you when we have to talk about business,” she snaps.

I tried to hold in a sigh. I don’t really know what to say in this situation. I know I made the wrong decision. I know that I’ve broken her heart, but I couldn’t keep it in. I couldn’t let her think I’m some good guy because I’m not. I don’t think I’m evil, but I know that she would possibly debate with me about that.

“So, you were just not going to tell me? You were just going to sleep with me and not say a word?” she snaps again.

I look over at her and then toward the front of the cab. A local man is driving, and I can tell that he’s enjoying the conversation by the smirk on his face. I wonder how many tourists he hears arguing, but I can’t worry about that right now.

“Obviously not that’s why…”