“Do you think she’ll talk to me? Chloe, I mean?”
He shrugged again. “I do not know. She has been adamant about not speaking to my son and not being present in my grandson’s life.”
“Because she can’t bear to be around Massimo, or at the time, his family who reminded her so much of Massimo? He was in jail for a while.”
“I am always honest, Amora, however, being an honest man does not always mean that I will speak my truth. There are times I watch. An intelligent man will watch and not speak a word. My son will find his way, with or without my direction, but I did not feel from the beginning that Chloe was strong enough to survive this family.
“Perhaps if my son disappeared into the shadows this family makes, she could have.” He shrugged. “However, this was not the course fate took. My position in the family is at the top of the food chain. Rosaria Caffi was ruthless enough to protect it with her teeth and claws for her own status. There are also others who will challenge it, as ferociously as she used to be.”
“You’re telling me that if Chloe couldn’t stand against Rosaria, she would’ve had a problem being married to a man who is so close to the Fausti throne.”
“Correct,” he said in Italian. “Chloe is a tender woman. An artist who enjoys being inside of her mind.”
“Massimo felt it was meant to be.”
He nodded. “The sister of my heart confirmed it. Chloe had sketched portraits of my son before they even met.”
Maybe I began to frown, because Rocco smoothed out the tension in my face with his fingertips. I relaxed and sighed.
“Didn’t Chloe know Matteo?” I asked. “She’s from the same town?”
“Sì.”
“Maybe she was creating a version of Matteo?”
“My son is a version of Matteo. The Fausti family has strong genetics.”
I exploded with laughter, and the sound echoed. “That’s for sure.” I smiled. “But if a woman looks close enough, she knows her man.”
He grinned. “The moment you saw me, you knew me.”
He wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but I knew he loved when I said the next words. “Yes, the very moment. I didn’t even see you and I knew, Rocco Fausti. I felt.”
His grin turned into a smile, and I had no control over the smile I gave him back.
“Scarlett confirmed it, though?” I asked. “The connection between Massimo and Chloe?”
He nodded. “However, even if the sister of my heart feels the connection, it is what the people who are connected do with the connection. My nephew, Matteo, understood that Chloe was too tender for our world. Perhaps in some cases this could work. It is best if the women of this world can be soft, but they must also be strong of faith, of will.”
“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it,” I quoted.
“Chloe could not do this, and my son could not do it entirely for her. Her body, yes. All else…” He shrugged.
“But we must do the guarding ourselves—of our hearts and souls.” I couldn’t speak for all women, but I found it romantic that my husband shielded my body, and I found strength in protecting his heart and soul.
We became quiet, and then I released a breath. “I hope she’ll, at the very least, hear me out.”
I thought about their situation for another moment. It was hard for me to let it go, maybe because my heart kept attempting to heal what it understood—not having two parents who valued their child over whatever situation they found themselves in romantically. “Maybe Michelangelo was just meant to be. It seems like Massimo and Chloe loved each other once. Maybe for Michelangelo’s sake they can make peace with the situation.”
He looked at me for so long, I whispered, “What?”
“You understand me, but there are things I do not believe you have grasped.” He held onto me so tightly, I felt his strength go past muscle and hit bone. He wanted me to feel a touch of his strength. “There is no making peace with a situation that involves strings of the heart. A woman is worth living for. Worth dying for. She is worth killing for. I could not live in the same world as you and not have your love—and if I do not have it, no other man can, not after you have promised me what I cannot live without. What is rightly mine.”
“So passionate,” I whispered. Then I yawned.
“Come,” my husband said, bringing us out of the pool. He watched as droplets of water rolled down my naked body, and when he took one of my nipples in his mouth, I moaned.
He gently set us down on a chair and then turned me around and set me on top of him. “I will put you to sleep, my love.”
