Page 37 of Modern Romance December 2025 5-8

She turned to face him. “I’ve never known this…wildness before, Renzo. Everything I did and didn’t do, right up to what kind of man I dated and let close, it was colored by…Pia and my mom.” She swallowed the knot of shame that came with the confession. “I let them live rent-free in my head, dictating my every thought and action, and that’s my fault. But this…you and me… I want to act on what I want, moving forward. And that courage comes from trusting that you want this too. That you want me and that there are no twisted reasons behind it.” She pushed away the sudden surge of emotion pulsing behind her confession. “You have no idea how…liberating it is. So thank you.”

His gaze flashed with understanding. Covering her from prying eyes with his wide frame, he stole a hard kiss that spun her senses into liquid sensation. “Did I tell you how magnificent you are,bella? When you walked out of the elevator, all I wanted to do was devour you. In that, we’re equals then,sì?”

Throat tight, she simply nodded.

As they stepped onto the dock, she straightened her shoulders. Still, nerves twisted in her stomach. With his hawklike attention, Renzo must have noticed, because he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. “We don’t have to stay long. Just tell me if it becomes too much at any point during the evening.”

“No,” she said, lifting her chin. “I want to meet your friends. I want to know more about your life.”

“And will you share more about yours?”

She colored at his sneak attack. “You already know everything about me.”

“Only what Pia told Santo and then Santo me. And we both know that’s far too many filters and distortion on the way.”

Biting her lower lip, she held his gaze. “I’ve led a very uninteresting life.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” the man said, relentless like a dog with a bone.

Mimi sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was to dig up the painful past. “I could be persuaded to share a few things if you kiss me like that again.”

His expression softened slightly, a flicker of approval in his dark eyes. “It’s a deal,cara.”

Mimi’s eyes widened as they entered the hotel, the grandeur of the lobby threatening to devour her.

It was a dazzling blend of history and modernity. Intricate Murano glass chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, their light reflecting off polished marble floors. Gilded mirrors lined the walls, doubling the elegance of the space.

She inhaled deeply, nerves tightening as she spotted the small crowd gathered just beyond the main reception. A hostess ushered them toward a private salon.

As the heavy double doors opened, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Inside, nearly thirty people mingled, the air alive with energy and curiosity. Her pulse quickened as numerous guests turned in their direction.

This wasn’t an intimate dinner with two of his closest friends.

This was…something else.

Renzo’s entire body stiffened at her side. His hand fell away from her back. When she glanced up, his dark gaze was locked on the center of the room, where his sister Chiara stood, a champagne flute in hand and a satisfied smile on her lips.

She walked up to them, impeccably dressed in a silver gown that shimmered like liquid moonlight, looking anything but repentant.

“Chiara?” Renzo muttered, his voice low and sharp. And then he switched to rapid Italian, but the gist was clear to Mimi.

He was furious with his sister. Particularly about the guests she had included, although Mimi didn’t understand exactly who.

“You were taking too long, Renzo, squirrelling her away as if we might all eat her up,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She turned to Mimi, her smile sharpening. “You look more than fine to me, Mimi. We all began to wonder if there was a reason my brother was hiding you.”

The insult and the insinuation were faultless.

Mimi forced a polite smile, though her stomach twisted. This wasn’t a warm welcome—it was an ambush. As Chiara gestured toward the crowd, Mimi’s gaze swept the room. Older men and women with sharp eyes and polished appearances mingled with younger women, several of whom stared at her with barely concealed amusement or disdain. At least two of the women, she guessed, had been invited because they had shown interest in Renzo at some point.

Was that why he was so angry?

It was bad enough that they all knew her through Pia and her grasping, manipulative, self-destructive ways. Now they thought Mimi had gone one step further and trapped Renzo with a pregnancy.

The media and the whole world were one thing, but facing actual people who immediately jumped to horrible conclusions about her was another. Either she ran away and let them cement those assumptions or she stayed and showed them who she was. After that, their judgment was on them.

Even two weeks ago, Mimi would have run away, would have called it his world. But now with Renzo by her side, she owed it to him and their son. And to herself.

“You had no right to do this,” Renzo said to Chiara, voice clipped.