The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors: T.L. Swan Advertisement1

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“My days are numbered.” His haunted eyes hold mine. “They’ll kill me, like they killed my family.”

I stare at the beautiful man in front of me, so heartbroken and forlorn. “Then we go down together,” I whisper up at him.

I kiss him, and his face screws up in pain as he wraps his arms around me. We stand in each other’s arms for a long time. His head is in the crook of my neck, and I hold him tight. He desperately needs comfort. I can feel the pain oozing out of him. I have no idea what transpired today, but I know it’s upset him greatly.

After a while, he’s heavy in my arms, and I know I have to get him upstairs.

“Let’s go to bed.” I take his hand to lead him through the house, and slowly up the stairs. He’s quiet and placid as he lets me lead him—nothing like the raging bull who was downstairs only half an hour ago, fighting everyone.

I pull the covers back and take his clothes off. “Get into bed.”

He stands still, staring at me.

“Get into bed, baby. I’ll just have a quick shower and be back,” I whisper with another kiss. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He nods, mollified for the moment, and he flops down. I cover him over, and his heavy eyelids close.

I stand at the foot of the bed as I watch him.

Holy hell… what just happened?

Enrico

The banging of my head wakes me with a start. I frown as I try to get my bearings.

Where am I?

I reach out and feel Olivia’s bare behind beside me as she sleeps. I immediately relax. I’m home.

Bang, bang, bang goes my head.

I slowly sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed as nausea fills me. I’m hot, clammy, and the taste of cigars and liquor is pungent in my mouth.

Hell, I need a shower.

I get up and stagger. What the…? Am I still drunk?

I make my way to the bathroom and get under the hot water. I lean against the tiles and try to get my bearings.

How did I get home last night?

I can’t remember anything.

I concentrate as I go back over yesterday.

There was lunch with Sophia, and then I went back to the club and poured myself a drink… more drinks.

I frown as I get a vision of myself punching someone. Who did I hit?

Fuck.

I put my arm on the tiles and lean my forehead against it as the water runs over me. I still feel as bad as yesterday—perhaps worse—because now I have the hangover of all hangovers.

He had another family and everyone knew. I feel so stupid, so betrayed. Humiliated.

I’ve never been so disappointed in my entire life. I always hero worshiped my father, and to find out he’s just another bastard who used my mother is soul destroying.

I didn’t know him at all.

The men—his men. They knew. They kept his dirty secret for him. For two years, I’ve worked beside these men, day in, day out, and not a word has ever been mentioned about her…

About his other son.

The one I don’t know.

With a heavy heart, I wash my hair, brush my teeth, and desperately wish that yesterday hadn’t happened. The memories of my father are forever tainted. Was he watching the clock every time he was with me? Was he counting down the hours until he could leave to go and see them?

I knew my grandfather had multiple mistresses; everyone knew. He was a typical Italian bastard who wouldn’t come home for days. I expected nothing more from him. It was just how it was. He and my grandmother were hardly on speaking terms. She lived a life of luxury and was happy enough with that.

But my father… he adored my mother. He doted on her… loved her. To know that he spent thirty years loving another woman on the side hurts. I feel betrayed.

So, so betrayed.

Did our family mean nothing to him? It mustn’t have. If he loved us, he wouldn’t have strayed.

I think back to all our times at Lake Como, where he brought me and my brothers to our house here, while my mother always stayed at home.

He came here to see her.

Did he sneak her in once we were all asleep?

My stomach rolls as I get a visual of him having sex with someone else in his bedroom upstairs, while my mother waited for him at home.

Fury begins to pump through my bloodstream like never before. He never told me because he knew I would hate him for it.

Everyone knew. Even Sophia. She went to the funeral. He had a second funeral. What the fuck?

Everyone knew to keep it from me. I feel so stupid, and I’ve never been so humiliated.

I turn the shower off in disgust. I dry myself and walk back into the room to see my blonde angel still fast asleep. She’s lying on her side, and I crawl in behind her and pull her into my arms. I kiss her temple and she slowly wakes. She turns her head and kisses me.


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