If he does, he’s even dumber than I thought.
19
GABRIELA
My gaze driftsover the water, a gentle breeze blowing across the deck as I make the journey to Black Stag Island. It’s a forty-five-minute trip by boat, and I use the entirety of it to replay last night on a loop.
Every muscle in my body is overworked, and when I woke up and saw my reflection in the mirror, I let out an audible gasp. It looked like I’d spent the night with Dracula. But my neck wasn’t the only place Eros had left his brand—which I discovered when I was in the shower. I had constellations of his marks all over my inner thighs and breasts, too.
Of course, when I texted him about it, he was not at all apologetic.
You weren’t complaining when I was doing it.
Didn’t I warn you I bite?
Admittedly, I smiled at that response because he did warn me, and I definitely wasn’t complaining. But I had to use a lot of concealer to cover the mark on my neck, and I’m a little nervous it will be obvious today.
As we arrive at the island, a lump settles in my gut. While I’ve been replaying the events of last night, it was easy to forget the reason I’m here. And while I usually love coming out to theisland, today isn’t a casual visit with the girls. Riccardo will be joining me to discuss wedding plans, and I can already feel the noose tightening around my neck.
“Miss Bianchi.” Julian glances at me expectantly, and I realize he’s waiting for me to join him.
We deboard, and he nods at the driver of the SUV waiting at the dock for us before he opens the door for me. It seems like they know each other, but then I suppose a lot of guards probably do.
I sit back and relax against the seat for the short trip across the island. While it was once divided into three parts—one being the Moretti house where I spent three years of my life—it’s now divided into two. The Vitales have one half, and the Stavros family has the other. It’s a strange division, considering they’re mortal enemies. But so far, they’ve managed to avoid another bloody war between the current generations.
The vehicle slows as we reach theporte-cochère,and the wrought-iron gates swing open. The Black Stag Estate, also known asTenuta del Cervo Nero,is what I imagine as a little piece of Italy right here in the Pacific Northwest. The entrance is lined with cypress trees that lead all the way up to the circular drive and a Mediterranean-style mansion that looks like a palace.
I’ve spent a lot of time here over the years, running wild with the Morettis and the Vitales as children. As we got older, it felt like a home to me in many ways. Here, I was free from the constraints of Michael’s expectations. It was where I learned to swim, dance, and cook under Nonna Vitale’s instruction.
It was also where I first fell in love.
Everywhere I look, this island holds a memory. Romeo chasing me through the hedge maze. All of us huddled together in the abandoned lighthouse, telling each other scary stories.Maybe that’s when I learned to love them—because Romeo always told the best ones.
We spent summers swimming, building forts, and roaming the woods in search of the mysterious black stag. I can’t untether myself from those memories, but sometimes I wish I could. Now, they feel bittersweet. Or maybe just…bitter.
I’ve tried to stop thinking about his kiss, but I can’t. When I do, it makes me irrationally angry, and I’m not even sure why. Maybe because he’s five years too late. Or because I’ve convinced myself he has to be messing with my head. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He told me what happened to him wasn’t my fault, but it’s the only rationalization I have for his hostility toward me upon his return.
All I know for certain is that he’s been occupying far too many of my thoughts lately—so much so that I feel like I’m going insane comparing him to Eros. I’m not sure how today will go, but there’s a chance I may not even see him. That possibility makes my ribs compress, and I can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment.
The car rolls to a stop on the driveway, the marble fountain burbling at the center. Julian comes around to open my door, and I secure Beppe’s tote bag on my shoulder as we make the long journey up the dramatic limestone staircase at the entrance of the home.
We pass through the courtyard, and Julian opens the wrought-iron double doors that lead into the grand foyer. I thank him, and once I’m securely inside, he returns to wait in the guards’ quarters.
Inside the home, the central gathering spaces include a family room, a primary kitchen, a ballroom, a library, a gentleman’s den, and a spa. The details on the inside mirror those on the outside, with lots of arches and columns throughout the space.
It’s no surprise that I find Nonna in the kitchen. I’m fairly certain that she lives there, and she stays busy feeding all the Vitale men, and of course, the women, to a lesser extent.
“Gabriela.Bella mia. Look at you!” She wipes her hands on her apron and comes over to give me a good look. “Such a pretty dress, Tesoro, but you look too thin.”
I glance down at my monochrome outfit—a soft knit cardigan over a cami, a pleated mini skirt, sheer black tights, and a pair of Dr. Martens. Today, I’m channeling my inner Wednesday Addams to match my conflicted mood.
“You always say that, Nonna, and it’s never true.”
She shrugs. “Come, I made you pizzelles. ”
“Thank you.” I offer her an appreciative smile as she hands me not one, but two. There’s no point in arguing with her. If I did, she’d probably add a third.
“Mangia. Mangia.” She waves me off. “Go sit with the girls outside. We have the heaters going.”
