The Italian

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I believe thank you is the word you’re looking for,” she says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes. I hate this woman with a passion.

“I was following Lombardi. I had no idea he was coming for you.” She shakes her head as she looks at the smashed-up room. “We have enough evidence to clear your name, Enrico. I’ll organize a transfer back to Italy for you both first thing in the morning.”

I look down at the beautiful woman in my arms. “No.”

“No?” She frowns.

“I think I might like to stay

dead for a little while longer.” I smile down at Olivia. “I promised my girl a holiday.”

Epilogue

Olivia

Four months later

The sea breeze blows through my hair, and I look into the big brown eyes opposite me.

Enrico and I are standing on the sandy beach outside our house. We’re as happy as happy can be.

It’s our wedding day.

I’m in a tight, crochet white dress with my baby bump proudly on display. My hair is down, and I have a yellow flower tucked behind one ear. Enrico is wearing white hippy clothes and is completely barefoot. It’s so unlike Enrico Ferrara.

But so Australian.

We had to change locations after Lombardi found us.

After the ordeal I went through, Enrico decided that he wanted to have more time alone before we went back to Italy. He wanted my pregnancy to be as stress-free as possible. At first, it was going to be for just one month. That then turned into two, two turned into three, and now here we are, living on an island just off the Australian North Coast.

Of course, our mothers know we are safe… but nobody else just yet. We’re flying completely under the radar.

Giuliano is in training, while Lorenzo is currently running Ferrara.

For now, we can stay where we are in our stress-free little bubble.

Alone and happy.

Without enemies, bodyguards, or family.

We have never had this in our relationship: time alone.

It’s so precious, and we are savoring every second together.

We talk, laugh, and lie in the sun. We make love endlessly. This time alone in our pregnancy is his gift to me, and we are so looking forward to our baby coming along in eight weeks.

Life is surprisingly… normal.

That is, until you see the mansion we live in. Enrico couldn’t live in any other type of home.

Luxury is who he is. He’s a Ferrara to the bone.

The priest continues, “Do you, Enrico Ferrara, take Olivia Reynolds to be your lawful wife?”