“How can you be so sure?” she whispered.
“Na muri scrivutu ne stiddi,” I said with all the conviction in the world.
“A love that is written in the stars,” she translated.
“A love that is written in the stars,” I said. “Ours. It has burned in the sky as long as the stars have, and it’ll burn even longer than they will.Per sempre.”
Chapter 28
Stella
Castello Astro.A dream come true, honestly. It felt so much like home the moment I saw it, and as the fates decided to be generous to me, it becamemyhome the same day. It seemed like the floors welcomed our steps, the walls were willing to keep our secrets, and the roof vowed to protect us. Just as we were restoring what we could, trying to be respectful of its history, the house gave us the freedom to make it our own. Leave a piece of our own history for generations to come.
I couldn’t take credit for all those words, though. Scarlett had said some of them, and it inspired me to put my own spin on them. To bring forward all I was feeling and write them down. Chloe (who decided to stick around, even though Scarlett said that she “felt” Chloe’s resolve wasn’t final) painted the words on a portrait of the Tuscan hills for us. She’d painted it from our window—our view of them. We hung it in what we were calling the family room, so everyone would be sure to see it.
It had been almost a month since Matteo surprised me with the castle, and each second, each minute, day by day, moment by moment, it was starting to transform into our home.
The frescoes were all in amazing condition. I especially loved the one in the dining room, which seemed like it was floating over our table, which could seat up to at least fifty.Fifty people.At first, I wanted to say that we’d never get that many visitors, but then I reminded myself that Matteo’s family was huge, and they enjoyed having family dinners. It was the same for our outside seating on the verandas. I ordered a custom-made table from a local artisan that was double the size of the smaller one we had, just in case, but I kept the smaller one for us. The spot I wanted it moved to had perfect views, and I loved how intimate it felt. It would only be Matteo and I out there, for the most part, and I loved being close to him. I thought our bedroom was too big, but with how he made me feel at night, it might as well have been the size of a small closet.
Perfect.
Chloe knew Italian painting techniques and was giving the rooms updated paint jobs. We kept them all the same, earthy tones that felt like they paired well with Tuscany—apricot and pear, gold for the Toscana light, and blue here and there for the endless sky. Matteo’s office was this color. Some of the textures of the walls reminded me of clay. Bronze touches contrasted well. Most of our furniture was dark mahogany, and though it looked like it had been here for centuries, it seemed like it could have been made yesterday with how well it was all kept up.
What I loved the most?
The simple pictures of religious figures over the beds. They brought me peace, and it felt like they’d earned their spots in our home. Whoever had lived here before had found comfort in them. I was feeling the same. Slowly, we were getting to know each other, just like us and the house—er,castello—but it felt more homely than what the wordcastlemade me think of.
On my way to bring some new linens into the dining room to put away in the hutch, I stopped and watched Chloe paint for asecond. Figaro was playing at my feet almost like a dog would. Chloe was concentrating on her work, each stroke meticulous and perfect. Deep down, though, I was willing to bet her emotions were making her think long and hard about Massimo and what she was going to do.
That day outside of thecastello, when she ran to him and him to her, she’d told me she was leaving. But I was starting to realize that these men were not so easy to put off. Massimo had planned to follow her wherever she went. Fight for her no matter the cost. I could tell the entire situation was starting to make the family antsy, because Scarlett was getting anxious about it.
One day, a group of the family had gone for a ride to see the Sentiero dell’Arte e dell’Anima, or Path of Art and Soul, in Pienza. It was meant to blend art and nature, each bench along the walk designed by an artist.
Massimo felt Chloe would enjoy it, and somehow Scarlett and Brando, Rocco, Mia and Saverio, and Matteo and I were invited along. I realized why when Massimo took a minute, while Chloe was up ahead, to squeeze my hand and say in a rush, “You are a woman of this generation. Perhaps you will be able to talk to her again.”He’d left me right after, taking his spot behind her. I’d noticed he didn’t get too close. He gave her some space. But the tension was thick between them, even outside.
“What can I do?” I’d asked Matteo, feeling helpless.
He’d shrugged, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Nothing that I know of. Mamma tried. Nonno has talked to her. You’ve talked to her. It’s up to her now which direction Massimo will take.”
Which directionMassimowill take.
I hadn’t been around long, but from my short time, even I knew he wasn’t going to just let her go. She knew it too, and I always got the feeling she was internally plotting on how to leave, or maybe escape. She’d never be free from the love, butphysically, I got the feeling she was mentally putting on her running shoes. Short of telling Massimo that Chloe felt his mom was evil, and she couldn’t be with him while Rosaria was around, there was nothing else to do.
This wasn’t about Massimo and the Italian model who was planted in his bed. It was about Rosaria. She was obsessed with Massimo leading the family someday, which meant that it would start a war between Matteo and Massimo, since Matteo wanted to rule someday. That all seemed normal in this family, but Massimo had turned down the position after he’d met Chloe in Paris. He craved true love more than he craved power. Rosaria wasn’t going along with that. Everyone knew she was up to something, but how she would get there was still a mystery.
Though, I got the feeling Scarlett felt something. Something not even Mia felt. Mia said her mamma was more experienced with the “feelings,” but Mia sometimes felt things her mamma didn’t, depending on who it was.
Scarlett had taken my hand during the walk, and Brando and Matteo had walked a little ahead to give us time. She squeezed. “There’s nothing you can do,bebe,” she’d said to me. “This isn’t your fight. But be prepared. This is not going to end well.”
“I know,” I’d whispered, thinking about all the times Chloe had looked at me and Scarlett while we were working on the house, or laughing about something, or the times she’d hug me. I’d seen the jealousy in Chloe’s eyes.
Chloe would even say, “You’re so lucky. Scarlett is so accepting.”
I was, and Scarlett was. She’d told me once that she and Brando had loved their children’s future spouses for as long as they loved their children. All they wanted was for their children to be happy, and if their children loved us, so did they. Rosaria was the total opposite. She craved power. Almost like a man would. It seemed like she’d stop at nothing, not even herchildren, to have it. That was a reason why I knew Chloe enjoyed staying with us. Rosaria wasn’t welcome here. I’d said it after I found out she tried to seduce Matteo.
A knock at the door made me jump. Chloe fell over a paint can, and Figaro lifted his head, looked toward the door, then ran for it. I rushed in to help Chloe, setting the linens down on the sofa.
“Sorry!” Her cheeks were flushed, and her light hair had pear green paint specks all in it. “I was so lost in my work I didn’t expect the knock.”
