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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I smile against my champagne glass. “My number, apparently.”

He rolls his eyes and picks up his drink, unimpressed. “I’m sure his boss would be thrilled about that.”

I glance over at him and frown. “Why, who’s his boss?”

Giorgio lifts his chin to the door, and I see Sergio walk into the room with a group of men. Someone is trailing behind them while speaking to another man, and I crane my neck to see who it is. He slowly comes into view.

Black dinner suit.

Square jaw.

Power that emanates throughout the room like a shockwave.

Fuck.

Enrico Ferrara just arrived.

12

Olivia

My stomach flutters and I snap my eyes away, angry that his presence still affects me.

“So, that’s his boss, hey?” I mutter.

“Yep.” Giorgio’s eyes dance with delight. “Enrico Ferrara, the king of Italy. Do you know him?”

“Why would I?”

He smiles and picks up my hands. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

“Then why are you lying to me?”

I stare at him. “Why would you think I know him?”

He shrugs. “Just a hunch.”

“Mr. Ferrara doesn’t interest me.” I don’t want to have this conversation.

“That’s his mother on the other side of the table and his two brothers and his younger sister,” Giorgio continues.

My eyes float over to his table, his mother is talking and smiling with a man, she’s very attractive with a gorgeous figure, I noticed her before I even knew who she was. She has perfectly styled shoulder length dark hair and is wearing a black Gucci dress, the epitome of style. My eyes then go to the young girl, his sister. She’s talking to one of his brothers, the one that I met in Rome, what was his name? The doctor, Andrea, that’s it. She tips her head back and laughs out loud, she’s absolutely stunning and is wearing a modest ice pink dress with long sleeves.

“Fascinating…aren’t they?” Giorgio smiles as he sips his wine.

I push my chair out. “I’m going to the bathroom. Where are they?”

“Over to the back wall and down the corridor.” He points in the direction.

“Thanks.” I grab my clutch and make my way out of the ballroom. I walk down the corridor and sigh in relief when I get into the privacy of the cubicle.

Damn him.

What’s he doing here?

Is this how it’s going to be in Milan? Every time I walk out of the door I run into his building, his workers, or worse… him.

Just the sight of him infuriates me.

I finish up in the bathroom, wash my hands, and I reapply my red lipstick. I tuck my boobs back into my dress and turn to look at my behind in the mirror. Suddenly, it’s become super important that I look amazing.

I’ll show the bastard what he missed out on.

Go out there, have a fun night and don’t even look his way, don’t give him the satisfaction of even glancing toward him, I tell myself as I smooth my dress down.

I stare at the blonde in the mirror.

To the outside world, she looks so put together. What a joke that is. Little do they know I’m still thinking about a man who treated me abysmally two years ago. I can’t get him out of my head no matter how hard I try. Seeing him yesterday or should I say fighting with him yesterday seems to have opened up old wounds. I feel raw and open, it’s as if he has just left me in the police station.

What’s wrong with me?

I just need to snap out of it, as soon as Natalie gets here it will be much easier. I’ll have a friend and a social life. To hell with Enrico Ferrara.

With a deep exhale, I drop my shoulders and leave the bathroom. I take a wrong turn and arrive at a doorway on the other side of the ballroom.

Near his table.

I stop and watch him for a moment. He’s smiling and talking to the people he’s sitting with. I watch him pick up his scotch and take a sip, and my stomach clenches.

Why does he have to be so gorgeous?

The beautiful woman next to him says something. He listens to her and then laughs out loud.

Is she his date?

She has long dark hair and is exotically beautiful. But he didn’t arrive with her.

He came alone.

Stop it. Who the hell cares if she’s his date?

I know I should stop watching him like a stalker from the corridor, but I can’t make myself. My feet won’t move.

A man walks up behind him, puts his hand on his shoulders, and says something. Rico smiles broadly before he stands and the two of them shake hands.

He’s so much taller than everyone around him, and muscular, but it’s the unbridled power that comes from within him that draws me in.

Is the weirdest thing.

It’s like he has this magnet inside of his body and I have the other magnet inside of mine.


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