Page 6 of And Twice as Twisted (Agostino Crime Family #4)

She wanted me to pick something from one of the displays, but each shelf was better than the last. Cannoli, tiramisu, panna cotta, tartufo, sfogliatella , panettone and so much more were spread through the cases.

I was practically drooling, my hands and nose pressed against the glass like a kid in her first candy shop.

When I couldn’t choose, she told me she’d make me a sampler and I clapped my hands, hopping up and down on my stilettos.

“Sweets are what gives me the most beautiful smile?” Romano’s raspy voice sent chills down my spine as he stepped alongside me. “Sampler, Maria!”

“Hush!” Maria shouted from behind the case, making us both laugh as he steered me towards a table.

Ever the gentleman, Romano pulled out my chair before unbuttoning his jacket and sitting across from me. As if memorizing my features, he took in every detail until I squirmed. The scar near his chin danced as he fought a smile.

“How was the ride?” he asked, leaning back in his seat.

The question was so simple and so… normal… that I couldn’t help but laugh. All the tension and stress of these last—God, it felt like years—lifted for a brief moment and I laughed. Hard. So hard I hiccupped as I wiped away tears and tried to rein in my emotions.

“I’m sorry. This is all just so…” I paused, unsure how to finish.

“Romantic? Thoughtful?” His smirk was approachable, boyish almost.

“Normal.” I laughed, and he frowned.

“I’m unsure how I should feel about that.” Before I could answer, Maria approached the table, depositing a large variety of treats. “Thank you, Maria.” His eyes didn’t stray from mine.

Glancing up, I realized Maria was staring at me.

“Those eyes,” she whispered. Only, judging from the way she spoke, it wasn’t a compliment.

She glanced back and forth between us before glaring at Romano.

With a flick of the wrist, he waved off whatever silent conversation she was having with him.

“ Prego, è troppo magra .” Maria bounced back into the kitchen, making me laugh again.

“I think you look incredible.” Romano eyed my lean torso, ignoring Maria’s statement about me being too skinny .

And then we were off. We explored every treat on the tray and went back for more cannoli.

Maria was a wonder in the kitchen and I had no doubt this was a very successful venture for Romano.

After the bakery, we toured Center City and South Street, as he showed me all the artistry, shops, and dining options his city had to offer.

“Everything okay?” I asked when we had to stop for Romano to take yet another call.

“Of course. Business.” He didn’t look up from the screen when he answered me.

“Sir,” Romeo interrupted. “She’s causing issues.”

She? Romano’s shoulders tensed as he apologized to me and stepped away. Romeo watched me, probably assuming I’d bombard him with questions. But it wasn’t any of my business. Romano’s conversation was short and edgy.

In our world, mistresses were a common practice.

Hell, he knew I was in love with another man and yet here we were.

I couldn’t dare accuse him of anything when I had my own guilt to carry.

Though I couldn’t help but wonder if he would keep her after we got engaged?

If we got engaged? That would be a question for another day.

We ended our evening early, as Romano escorted me to my private suite at the Four Seasons.

The view was breathtaking. It overlooked the art museum, and boathouse row was lit up against the water.

He kissed my hand and wished me goodnight.

I was thankful he didn’t push for more, unsure how I would feel if he aggressed.

I changed into comfortable Gucci track pants and stepped into the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror was one I hadn’t seen in a very long time. I no longer looked broken, lost. The predatory gleam was back in my eyes as I felt myself become whole again.

“Screw this.” It was still early and I knew sleep wouldn’t come.

Not for a while. So I changed into a pair of Joseph black stretch leather leggings, a Burberry off-the-shoulder white sweater, and a black studded pair of red-soles.

I twisted my hair into a high messy ponytail, freshened my lipstick, and headed for the door.

Then stopped.

Normally, there’d be no second thought to take off on my own. But after my abduction, I learned some things. Instead I sent a text, and within minutes, there was a knock at my door. I opened it and my mouth watered at the scene before me.

Romano had changed from his fitted suit into a pair of designer jeans and a grey button-up.

Untucked, collar open, and his tanned chest on display.

His hair was ruffled on his forehead, tousled like he kept running his hands through it.

Without saying a word, he extended his arm and I wrapped mine around his bicep as we took the elevator down to the hotel bar.

“Wow.” My eyes scanned the change in scenery. Only a few people mingled around the white granite bar top. The lighting was muted because the square seating area was enclosed by floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was lit up from the outside spectacle dancing across boathouse row.

“I agree.” When I turned to look at him, he was staring at me. “Are we talking about it or just drinking about it?”

When I didn’t answer, he pulled me towards the bar and ordered me a drink. The conversation was light, just two people getting to know each other. He was a disarmingly charming and sophisticated man. Yet so simple and laid-back.

With all the information and history he shared with me, I couldn’t help but think he was hiding a part of himself.

Then again, I didn’t have any room to talk, since I was hiding in his city to avoid my truths.

But his presence was still nice, a piece of solace away from everything my family and company entailed.

And just like that, before I knew it, the weekend was over.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you home.” He walked with me from the hotel to the idling car. “Business calls.”

“Not a problem. I want to thank—”

His calloused hands gripped my face and pulled me to him.

His lips slammed against mine and stole my breath, my mind startled and lost to the sensation.

It was over far too quickly as he helped me into the car and I was on my way home.

I read through a few text messages, learning nothing new about Octavia.

Al let me know he was going to meet me on my way to my proverbial prison.

My brother had planned to lock me down to avoid any further concerns over my well-being.

“ Meritavo di meglio ,” I muttered to myself, garnering Romeo’s attention.

“You do deserve better. The question is… what’re you going to do about it?” Romeo’s retort nestled deep in my gut, settling like a rock.

That was a good question.