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Italian Billionaire's Stubborn Lover (The Romano Brothers 1)

Page 4

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Nicolo’s confession was met with an uproarious bark of laughter from his brother, and Nicolo smiled despite the fun that Leonardo was having at his expense.

“Of course there was,” Leonardo said when he’d finally gotten his mirth under control. “So tell me, who is this girl? She’s not some mafia daughter, is she?”

“No, no,” Nicolo answered, waving a hand at the iPad in dismissal. “She is our real estate agent for the Romano del Mare. Except she doesn’t want to sell it, she wants us to restore it.”

This time, there was no laughter from Leonardo. “Is she mad?” he exclaimed. “The fines alone would bury us.”

“She’s thought of that, too. She obtained a promise from the council to have the fines lowered or in some cases even dismissed… if we restore the resort.”

Leonardo’s brows were up, his interest clearly piqued. “Maybe this girl is worth listening to.”

“Okay, it’s you who’s gone mad,” Nicolo said. He felt yanked like a yo-yo between whether it was best to renovate the hotel or whether it was best to cut their losses and be done with the place. Everything within him said to cut and run. Taking on the renovation would tie him to Sicily in a way that he wasn’t ready for.

“Wait, hear me out. The fines will strip away any lasting benefits to us selling the Romano del Mare. We will be lucky to break even. But what if we made a few of the more economical improvements to the property? Some of the fines would be reduced, and we would have a chance of making something out of this. Our grandfather’s legacy could actually amount to something that way instead of being washed away by the sea.”

Nicolo studied his brother’s face. “What else is there that you’re not saying?”

Leonardo shrugged one shoulder again. “Nothing I haven’t already said. When was the last time you stayed in one place for longer than a month?”

An alert popped up on Nicolo’s iPad. Leaning forward, he navigated away from the video call in order to check the incoming message. He pursed his lips upon seeing it and then returned to the video call.

“What is it? What’s happened now?” Leonardo asked.

“You know that development job I put in for, the one in India?”

“Yeah…”

“The offer came in. The job’s mine if I want it.”

“That’s great,” Leonardo exclaimed, and then added, “Isn’t it? I thought it was what you wanted.”

“As a career builder, it is a great opportunity.” The size of the projects he’d been taking on had been growing steadily. This job would propel him into the elite 1% of site developers. People would do their best to entice him to work with them rather than him having to vie for jobs. Yet, as the projects he’d tackled had gotten bigger and bigger, he’d realized something surprising about himself. He enjoyed working on smaller, community relevant projects more than he did internationally significant ones. But working on smaller development projects had career limitations that he wasn’t willing to accept.

“So, why the hesitation?” Leonardo paused and then answered the question for him. “Maybe that job is what you think you should do rather than what you want to do.”

“Of course! Overseeing the development of a 500 million euro site, that’s the worst thing that could happen to me.” Nicolo was going for sarcastic, but a note of sincerity crept its way into his otherwise flippant answer.

“And maybe it is!” Leonardo countered with the same heated vehemence he had when debating the outcome of a championship football game. “When is it that they need to have an answer about whether or not you accept the job?”

“End of next month, but—”

“No buts. Take some time for you. Get to know this girl who’s caught your eye, and keep your feet on the ground for more than a week. It will be good for you.”

Nicolo wasn’t ready to commit. His gaze drifted to the tin that sat off to the side on the table. It was out of Leonardo’s view, but maybe it was time to take a look at what Adeline had considered the crown of her argument for him to renovate the Romano del Mare instead of tearing it down.

Dragging the tin toward him with the tip of his finger, Nicolo brought it into view of the iPad’s video camera.

“What’s that?”

“The girl gave it to me. She told me to look at it when I was alone, quiet and calm.”

Leonardo snorted. “You going to open it now or wait until never?”

“Now will do,” Nicolo answered, shooting his brother a crooked grin. He pried the tin’s snug top off with his fingertips. The tin was old and of a decorative nature. It was the type of tin that fruitcakes were sometimes given in, and when the lid finally let go of its purchase on the lower half of the old box, there was a small pop.

Nicolo leaned forward to get a better look at its contents.

“What is it?” Leonardo asked.



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