Well, now our family knew I’d kidnapped and forced Amanda to marry me. It was all wrong. The dream I spent the long, sleepless nights in prison playing over in my head to keep me sane was falling apart. I wanted to be free. To build an empire. Then I would show the most incredible woman on God’s green earth why we still belonged together. I wanted to woo Amanda, to propose when she was ready to say yes, and have my family stand by us as we exchanged vows. That was the proper way. So far, I’d only managed to do two things I set out to do, and I’d done only one of them well.
My empire flourished, and I’d technically married the blue-eyed goddess.
I closed the kitchen door and pocketed the tech device that had disarmed the home security system. Amanda wasn’t safe here. After Cristiano told me the situation, I was determined to force Amanda to move in with me. It sucked. I wanted to give her time and space. Since I couldn’t court her properly before we married, I distanced myself to give her the period of adjustment she needed. The timeline had jumped ahead once again. If I couldn’t convince her living with me was best, I would have to devise a plan to manipulate her into it—and that was not an option I wanted to take.
Maybe she’ll see reason.Maybe she wanted to be with me, and all I had to do was offer.
The clock on the oven said 11:59 in bright green numbers. I had one minute to spare. Jogging through the dark, I took the stairs two at a time. I wasn’t even winded as I crept into her room.
The scent of jasmine shimmered in the air. I gulped that regal scent down, filling my lungs with it as I made my way to the bed. Sinking down on the edge, I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Amanda stirred. She tensed, then shot back with a scream.
“Good morning, fiore,” I said quietly.
She dropped back with a ragged huff. “Fuck, Vincenzo, what the hell are you doing?”
I placed my hand on her thigh, running my palm up and down the comforter. “I missed you.”
Those blue eyes watched me silently. Her beautiful lips stayed closed, her mind no doubt racing with tangled thoughts.
I let her have them for a minute. Part of me, the sadistic part, wanted to see if she would open up to me, even though I knew her well enough to know if she hadn’t already, she wouldn’t willingly.
But I gave her time. A chance. She remained silent.
Pain lanced my heart.
She’d come to me, though she hadn’t told the whole truth. And her demand that we separate, that we dissolve the marriage immediately, had been too horrible. I hadn’t been thinking straight. I kicked myself for being stuck in the past. Ten years ago, we’d been kids. The last night we were together, before prison ripped us apart, she’d worn the same look of determination, kept her thoughts, fears, andemotions bottled tight. We’d fought. And I’d been arrested before we had a chance to make up.
Now, I had a chance to redo things. We weren’t leaving things in the middle of a fight. As much as I wanted to yell at her, to pick up the verbal sparring session where it ended, I kept my emotions under an iron control. The urge to shake her for not telling me the whole truth was strong. On top of that? She’d gone to my brother. To my mother fuckingbrother, instead of trusting me with her nightmare. But I wasn’t going to pick a fight with her. Not right now. I would rather die.
I’d learned my lesson. There was no way to ever know when a moment would be our last. The fight we’d had the night we were separated by the law, I didn’t have time to fix it. This time, we were making up properly. Later, I would scold her for hiding the vile truth about her father.
And I would dole out a punishing session in the bedroom for going to another man instead of trusting me.
“It’s midnight,” I coaxed, breaking the thick silence.
“Enzo,” she groaned. “I just fell asleep.”
I’d seen the mostly empty bottle of wine on the counter. It didn’t seem like she realized the sleeping pills were a placebo. She hadn’t refilled her prescription—not that she could. My tech wizards had blocked that in some twist of digital magic.
“Come on,” I urged, digging my fingers into her thigh. “Let’s go.”
Remember, fiore. Remember how much you loved this.
She couldn’t see the plea on my face. But I let her hear it in my voice.
“What are you doing?” she muttered. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Exactly.” I let go of the guard I kept wrapped around my soul and bared myself to her. “It’s time for pancakes.”
Amanda stiffened.
I suddenly realized I was wholly unprepared. I didn’t have a backup plan if she shot me down. There were always other things we could do, but right now, the best plan was to do our thing.
“It’s midnight?” Her voice had changed. It was softer.
She remembered.
