The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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My eyes hold his.

“You think I’m not sentimental?” he yells like a madman. “Explain to me why the hell I couldn’t orgasm for two years without imagining I was with you.”

My heart drops.

“Two fucking years I lived a lie with every other woman, while my heart ached for only you!”

He turns and hurls the glass into the kitchen sink so hard that it smashes. He storms up the hall, and I hear the bedroom door slam.

I hear something hit the wall with force.

I stare at the broken glass in the sink, and my eyes fill with tears.

God, I’m a bitch.

I sit at the kitchen counter and exhale heavily. I knew we were going to have a fight tonight. I knew before we even left home.

I walk into the spare bedroom and take a long, hot shower. Half an hour later, I make my way up to our bedroom to find Enrico in bed. The blankets are pooled around his waist, and his forearm is over his eyes.

“Can I sleep in here?” I whisper.

“No.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Too late.”

I get into bed beside him and snuggle up against his large, naked body. “I didn’t open your presents because I want you to know that money doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t care about gifts. I care about your safety.”

He stays silent.

“I’m scared, Rici,” I whisper.

More silence.

“What good are gifts if I have to live without you?”

“You’re talking about the key?”

“Yes, I’m talking about the key. It freaked me out.”

He closes his eyes. “I can’t help this, Olivia. It is just a precaution.”

“Yes, you can.” I kiss his chest. “This business that you lead, this life that you live… it isn’t your dream, Rici.”

His eyes find mine.

“I’m scared you’re going to be murdered for fighting someone else’s battle.”

He exhales heavily, puts his arm around me and pulls me close. We lie in silence together for a moment, and I look up at him. “Can you promise me something?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me that we will die on the same day.”

He frowns. “Don’t say that, bella,” he whispers. “I couldn’t bear it.”

My eyes fill with tears. “I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. Don’t leave me behind.”

He kisses my temple as he holds me close. “Nobody is going to die, my love.”

“Promise me… we go together,” I whisper through a lump in my throat.

“Shh, baby.” He rolls me onto my back. His lips drop down my neck, and the emotion coming out of him tears my heart wide open.

I love this man.

With all of my heart I love this man.

We made it through our first fight.

Roma. What a beautiful place.

I’m reminded why it’s so special to me.

It’s Friday night, and Rici has bought me here for the weekend. We’ve just had dinner at the restaurant where we met. It feels so long ago now. So much has happened, and I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life. Something about our fight on Wednesday cemented something. The energy has shifted between us. Him telling me that he couldn’t orgasm with another woman has calmed my insecurities. I have completely given myself over to him.

I’ve been in Italy for three months now, and my time with him has been the happiest of my life.

And I was deadly serious; I don’t want to live in a world without Rici Ferrara. He promised me that everything is all right and that he was just taking precautions.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me through the crowds of people by the hand.

We come to an opening, and I see The Pantheon come into view. Its lit up with an aura around it.

“Oh, it’s so magical,” I whisper.

“Our special place.” He smiles softly and takes me into his arms.

“Thank you.” I kiss his lips. “This is the perfect date.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the secret side door. Once there, he calls someone. The man in the suit comes and opens the door. “Enrico, my child. Welcome. We have been waiting.”

We walk through and the man leaves us alone. I look around and my heart stops.

There is a small round table with candles, a bottle of champagne, and two crystal glasses on it. It’s sitting right near the spot where we spoke our truths all that time ago.

“Rici,” I whisper. “You are perfect.” We kiss softly, our lips linger over each other’s.

“Olivia, non posso vivere senza di te. Ti amo con tutto il cuore. Vuoi sposarmi, amore mio?” He goes straight into the translation. “Olivia,” he whispers. “I cannot live without you. I love you with all of my heart. Will you marry me, my love?”

He drops to his knee and pulls a ring from his pocket.

My hands fly to mouth in shock. “Rici,” I whisper.

He slides the ring on my finger and then presses my hand to his face. “Answer me, my love.”


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