Page 37 of Enzo (Legacy of Heathens #3)

PENELOPE

M ilan was to die for, or maybe it was the fact that Enzo looked at me like I was the greatest gift he’d ever received.

“Are you having a good time?” I asked my sister, although I didn’t need an answer. Her eyes were brighter than the stars.

“Thank you.” She beamed at Enzo, then at me. “I know this is your honeymoon, but I’ll never forget it.”

I squeezed my husband’s hand in thanks. This was all his doing.

When he first mentioned Milan, I told him my worries about Amara being prone to infection. The famous cathedral in Milan was always crowded, with people from all over the world visiting the site.

Enzo, being the resourceful man that he was, used his connections to have the Duomo di Milano shut down to the public.

There were a few stragglers on the square as Amara took a million photos, but for the most part, we got to enjoy it in peace.

“Okay, one photo of you two.”

“No,” I protested. “The three of us.”

She shook her head. “No, this is for me, not for you.”

I shared a look with Enzo and he shrugged his shoulders. He’d grant her anything and we both knew it.

“Okay,” I agreed.

Amara flashed me a smile, and then looked at Enzo. “Can you do something silly?”

My brows met my hairline. “What do you mean, sis?”

“Don’t know. You two know how to be silly, right? You’re not that old.”

Before I could comment, Enzo’s hands were on my waist and he was lifting me into the air. “Get on my shoulders.”

“What?” I let out a strangled laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do it!” Amara said, laughing harder with each passing moment.

“This is… ridiculous,” I grumbled, spreading my legs as he shifted me over his head and onto his shoulders.

“Exactly the kind of silly I wanted.” Amara was happy, and that was the only thing that mattered. “Now, look at me, you two,” she instructed. Click. Click. Click. “Smile.”

I was already grinning from ear to ear and so was she, behind the lens of her camera.

“You were pretty on your wedding day, Pen, but you’re prettier today,” she said, never removing her eyes from the lens. “You’re happier too.”

My fingers found Enzo’s that rested on my thigh and our fingers intertwined. I was happier. This marriage had turned out a lot different than I imagined, and I’d started to believe that even my papà was warming to the idea.

The shutter of the camera stopped and Amara pulled it away from her face, eyeing it critically before she announced, “Okay. Let’s see the inside.”

Getting off Enzo’s shoulders was scarier than it’d been going up, but once again, we had no choice but to oblige and follow my sister as she strutted toward the cathedral.

The cathedral’s facade was imposing with its towering columns and archways, but the interior was even larger than life with its majestic altars, sculptures, and mosaics. My sister was in heaven.

“Did you know that this floor is made up completely of marble from Lake Como?” Amara asked, staring wide-eyed at gray-pink slabs that formed spectacular floral motifs.

“The Candoglia floor has been subject to many restorations over the years, but only a select few artists have been permitted access because of how intricate the original designs are.”

I chuckled—who knew my sister was such an encyclopedia of historical facts?

“That’s fascinating.”

“Isn’t it?”

Amara twirled around once, glancing up at the ceiling. She pushed her hand through her hair excitedly, overwhelmed by the vastness, but then froze.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. She pulled her hand out, staring at a chunk of hair hanging limply over her palm. I let go of Enzo’s hand and rushed to her. “We knew to expect this, darling. It’ll grow back.”

“It won’t.” Her eyes, full of sadness, lifted to me as she let the silky strands slip through her fingers.

“It will,” I protested. “Just like last time. You’ll see.”

She smiled, something about it cracking my heart in two.

Enzo joined us, hands in his pockets and his eyes locked on Amara.

“Do you remember that nativity scene on the bronze door when we entered?” Amara looked at him, her eyes glistening as she nodded. “The sculptor in charge of its renovation is a friend of a friend. He made one for you, but I want to make sure you like it.”

Her eyes lit up and her smile turned brighter, but in the back of all of our minds, dread remained.