“I have to go back to the city,” he murmurs. “Work.”
A tiny pang tugs at me, part longing, part worry. “Be careful.”
His mouth curves. “Always.” Then, lower, meant only for me: “Tonight, I’ll make it up to you.”
The way he says it sends a flush through me, anticipation curling warm in my stomach.
I nod and bite back a smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”
He presses one more kiss to my mouth, lingering a second longer this time. Then straightens, suit jacket settling across his shoulders like a mantle he can’t ever put down.
“Stay inside the grounds,” he says gently. “Ottavio will be nearby if you need anything.”
“I will.”
He gives Nori a dry look. “Try not to add another cat to the collection while I’m gone.”
“No promises.” I grin.
He leaves a minute later, footsteps fading down the hall, the house swallowing him back into its quiet.
The silence that follows isn’t empty or cold, though. It hums with contentment. With cats glaring at each other across polished floors, sunlight spilling through tall windows, the echo of a kiss that still lingers on my lips.
And beneath all that, threaded through the warmth like a hairline crack in glass, is guilt.
I settle on the couch with Nori in my lap and Wasabi sulking two cushions away, and the feeling creeps back in. The one I keep trying not to look at too closely.
My name isn’t Rose Brown.
It never was.
I chose it. I built a life around it. I buried the girl my family wanted and planted this one in her place. Every day since, I’ve told myself I had to. That secrecy was safety. That reinvention was survival.
But now…
Now there’s a man who kisses me goodbye on staircases and rescues the stray cats I worry about in the middle of the night. A man who has given me shelter and safety and something dangerously close to hope.
And I’m lying to him.
Maybe this is love. Maybe it’s the closest I’ve ever come to it. But what kind of love hides its roots? What kind of love isn’t honest?
I run my fingers through Nori’s fur and stare out across the bright, endless garden.
If I’m going to stay—if I’m going to let myself want this—then at some point, the truth is going to have to surface.
And when it does…
God. I pray he’ll still love me after.
Of course he will.He’s Matteo. He fucks you six ways from Sunday every day and kisses you like you’re the most important thing in the world.
He loves you. He’ll love your past, too.
Nori chooses that exact moment to launch himself out of my arms.
He slips free in a blur of black fur and bad decisions, streaking down the corridor with Wasabi hot on his tail, spitting fury and indignation in equal measure.
"Nori!" I scramble to my feet. "Wasabi, don’t you dare?—!"
