Page 34 of Bellini Born

“Coming through!” Enzo called out, bringing my belongings into the room. He craned his neck around the stack of milk crates. “Where do you want these?”

“Uh.” My gaze scanned the room. Gesturing toward the nightstand, I said, “Over there is fine.”

“You got it.” He set them down on the floor and propped my suitcase beside the bed. Brushing his hands on his jeans, he looked around, musing, “Interesting choice for a room.”

My eyebrows rose. “Why’s that?”

Though it was quick, I caught the death glare Matteo shot his cousin, who replied, “No reason.”

Yeah, I wasn’t buying that for a second. What weren’t they telling me? What was it about this room that was so “interesting?”

Matteo quickly lifted Bianca, and she threw her arms around his neck before pulling back, and the pair of them rubbed the tips of their noses together. When he set her down, he walked over to where I stood holding Serafina and shared a similar exchange with her, even though the baby wasn’t much of a participant.

“Until morning,topolina,” he murmured against the top of her head.

And then he was gone, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air the only proof that I wasn’t dreaming.

In a daze, I asked the four-year-old, “What was that your dad called your sister?”

“Little mouse.” Bianca tickled Serafina’s foot, and the baby giggled.

“Fitting.”

“Come on! I’ll show you my room!” Bianca didn’t wait before she raced through the open door, and I hastened my steps to follow her so I didn’t get lost in this maze of a mansion.

Thankfully, she hadn’t gone far, rushing into the room across the hall from mine. The bed featured a pink tulle tent near the headboard, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was an actual plush throne in the corner by a bookshelf.

“Wow.” I brightened my voice. “This room is fit for a princess!”

Bianca beamed at me. “That’s me! I’m the princess!”

“You sure are,” I agreed.

“Serafina sleeps next door.” She wrinkled her nose. “But she has a baby room.”

Laughter spilled from my lips. “I bet it’s just perfect for her, then.”

The baby I held cooed as if in agreement.

“I’m hungry,” Bianca declared. “Let’s get a snack!” Just like before, she was off like a shot, running ahead of me down the long hallway in the opposite direction—or at least, I thought it was; who knew with how turned around I was at this point—of the staircase.

There was some small comfort in knowing I wasn’t completely losing my mind when we came to the top of a different set of stairs. Carefully making my way down the steps with the precious cargo in my arms, we were spit out into a kitchen thatwas easily twice the size of the apartment I’d left behind just this morning.

The same woman who’d opened the front door and escorted me to the library yesterday stood at the kitchen island, tapping away on a tablet, and she looked up at our arrival.

She offered me a curt nod. “Miss Reynolds.”

I hitched Serafina higher on my hip. “Summer is just fine.”

“Summer,” she corrected. “I’m Teresa, Mr. Bellini’s housekeeper. I manage the household and everyone in it.”

My spine straightened. Did that mean she was my boss instead of Matteo?

Teresa grabbed a manila envelope held to the fridge with a magnet and pulled out several pieces of printed paper, spreading them across the marble surface of the island.

Without delay, she tapped the first one and said, “Miss Bianca attends preschool two mornings a week: Tuesday and Thursday. You will escort her there after breakfast on those days and return to retrieve her before lunchtime.”

I shuffled on my feet. “I don’t own a car.”