If she wasn’t coming over to our place, Ermanno was always making his way toward hers. They’d explore the land for hours, when Ermanno was allowed to. He seemed to respect this, nodding when Rocco said he had school and work to do. But there were times I’d catch him staring out of the window, sighingoccasionally, a puppy-dog look in his eyes. It almost seemed like he had ants in his pants that he was keeping to himself, until it was time to run free.
Massimo gave me a suspicious look. “He is a pest.”
I only smiled. “Were you a pest at that age?”
I could only describe his eyes as…turning back the hands of his youth clock, viewing himself as a much younger man. “Perhaps to my older cousins,sì. I was good with a sword, and I knew this.”
My smile turned into a grin. “You knew who your father was.”
He nodded. “Despite who he is to me, I have always known he is the best at many things. Perhaps he held back because his position is truly second in line to rule.”
I nodded and tucked a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “He didn’t always give it his all because he knew his place. He had to come second.”
“Sì.”
“Is it the same for you?” I tucked my hands deep into the pockets of my coat, and Massimo motioned for us to keep walking. I met up with him and he matched my step.
His eyebrows became tight, and he nodded. “Before Chloe, this mattered to me. One side of me was not content with always falling behind only because of a hierarchy that demanded it of me. I was to show mycugino, Matteo that is, who I was and what I could be.” He shrugged. “After I met Chloe, the family and all that came with it did not matter to me. This is when Rosaria Caffi lost her mind.”
I nodded. “It seemed important, to some, that you take over the family.”
“Important?” He made a disbelieving noise in his throat. “She would have spilled my blood, her own blood, if I did not comply.”
“She was as ruthless as your paternal side of the family.”
He stopped walking, and so did I. We stared at each other. A cold wind came between us, and he waited until I was nuzzled deeper into my coat to speak again.
“My father and mother—the title only given to the truth—were ruthless and ruthless. It takes a true woman to bring out the romantic in us.”
“Did Chloe do that for you?” I whispered.
“Sì.I had never met anyone like her. She would paint murals naked. Murals of me.” He touched his heart. “This endeared her to me. I was her muse, as she was mine when my tongue painted her skin and I tasted what had been mine—mine and mine alone.”
All right.If he hadn’t looked anything like his father, his words alone would have given him away. But he did—he was the spitting image of his father. Maybe that was why all of Rocco’s sons were endeared to me. They all reminded me of my husband, even if they were somewhat different. Something that made each man unique.
“What about the doctor?” I whispered.
His face scrunched up hard, and his eyes froze for a moment. Then it seemed all the hot blood in his veins made him human again. “Tell me, what doctor are we speaking of.”
“Ah.” I wasn’t so sure then I should’ve brought it up. “Alessandra Ponte.”
“She uses her anger to hide her attraction to me. Years ago, she tempted me, perhaps only because she used her new beauty to capture a glance from mycugino,Matteo, before his wife captured all his attention. His heart. His love.
“It had been a while since I had last seen Alessandra Ponte, and she had grown…” He allowed his thought to linger, then shook his head. “I did not see her as a conquest to be won, however. She has a brilliant mind. I have always respected her. Respected her passion when it comes to healing. However, Ihave always known how much she despises my family. We create hurt, not healing, as she does.”
“If she would’ve favored Matteo over you?” I asked.
His shoulders stiffened, but he shook his head. “I still would not have pursued her. I would have, however, been honest with mycuginoabout her intentions—her favor was only to make me look, and look I did.”
My eyes scanned the property, and in the distance, another one of the soldiers, who was about Alessandra’s age, Massimo’s age, was taking a walk with her. Massimo’s eyes followed mine, and I knew he had already known where she was, but the solider was a new addition to the scene.
“That is Narciso.” Massimo narrowed his eyes. “His parents did not think twice before bestowing upon him this name. It means exactly what you would assume it would.Narcissistic. Perhaps because it stems from the name Narcissus. Are you familiar with Greek mythology?”
“Some.” I made a so-so gesture with my hand, but his eyes were hard in the distance. “Not this myth, though. Tell me more.”
He cleared his throat. “In Greek mythology, Narcissus represents a genus of flowers, and, of course, self-obsession. Narcissus stared at himself in a pool of water, leading him to his death. Daffodils rose up where he perished and became a symbol of his unrequited love of himself.”
I sang a line from “You’re So Vain,” even making the opening beats with my mouth. I thought I’d get a laugh or smile from Massimo, but like his father, sometimes he could be all too serious. I let the tune die off when he only gave me a stiff nod.
