The Italian - Page 201

I stare down at the table. “I wish you were just a delivery man.”

His eyes hold mine.

“I wish you and I had a chance to be normal.”

A frown crosses his brow. “You wouldn’t love me if I were normal, Olivia.”

“You’re wrong.” I smile as my eyes well with tears. I sip my wine, disgusted with my dramatics. “Ignore me,” I sigh. “I’m hormonal or something.”

“I’ll talk to the staff. They’ll be more discrete.”

I nod.

He leans over and takes my hand across the table. “Tell me about your plan—the one where you show me something.”

I shrug. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I would be beside myself with worry about you the entire time.”

He exhales and turns his gaze to the lake.

“How did your father and grandfather die, Enrico?” I ask.

“Car accident.”

“What caused their car accident?”

“They were run off the road.”

My heart constricts as I watch him, so detached and cold.

“Is that why you have so much security?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Are you in danger?”

He clenches his jaw but stays silent. I can see his answer as clear as day in his eyes.

That means yes.

My eyes well with tears again. Damn these hormones. Why am I such a crybaby today?

“What did you want to show me, Olivia?”

“I wanted to take you to a little one-bedroom apartment with no fancy furnishings, no staff, and nobody around. I wanted to show you that our love was enough. That that’s all we need.”

His eyes search mine. “I already know that, my love,” he whispers sadly.

“You scare me.”

He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I know how our story ends, Rici,” I whisper.

“How?”

Tags: T.L. Swan Romance
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