But I did.
Hiding in the closet my mother had shoved me into, I saw what that type of man could do. The image is seared into my mind.
Falling for the likes of Luca Conti is out of the question.
No matter how much my traitorous wishes otherwise.
Chapter One
Six Months Later
Matilde
The apartment feels too quiet without Arianna.
My twin left yesterday morning for some adventure travel festival in Colorado—a week-long event she’d been chattering about for months. She’d been so excited, waving her tickets around and promising to vlog the whole experience for her followers. “It’s going to be epic, Tilly! Zip-lining, rock climbing, hot air balloons—my subscribers are going to lose their minds!”
I smiled and packed her a box of pastries for the trip, trying not to let her see how anxious I was about being alone.
Now, as I slide a tray of sugar cookies out of the oven, I can practically hear her teasing voice in my head.
“Aren't you sick and tired of baking sugar cookies every day?”
And why can't I bake sugar cookies? It's my bakery, isn't it? Sure, they're not the most popular of the pastries I bake as most consider them pretty basic, but who knows? A customer might come in asking for them. In fact, just a couple of days ago, a nice little old lady bought a full box for her grandkids.
I'm just making these cookies in case that same old lady comes back again.
Liar!
I can almost hear Ari’s voice again, reminding me of that phrase Mama loved to use when one of us was fixated on one thing.Avere il chiodo fisso in testa, which translates to “having a nail fixed on one’s head.”
I don't have an obsession with making sugar cookies. Although I've been making them a lot lately.
The nail fixed on my head, as Ari would say, isn’t the cookies themselves. It’s a certain hot guy with stunning green eyes and a charming smile…
I spread the cookies over the wire rack to cool, glancing at my phone. No messages from Ari yet, but she’s probably still sleeping off the travel. She’d also snagged two cookies before she left yesterday, grinning at me when I protested.
“He’s not going to eat them all, Tilly. Don’t be stingy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m making these for my customers.”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
The last thing she’d said before walking out the door still echoes in my head: “You have the place all to yourself now. Maybe you’ll finally invite your bodyguard to stay the night for some extra protection.”
I sputtered and blushed, and she’d giggled all the way down the stairs.
Without her here, the apartment felt so empty last night that I barely slept. I finally gave in around midnight and tookone of the sleep aids the doctor prescribed months ago. It knocked me out cold, but at least I got some rest.
I finish transferring the cookies and start on the next batch of dough, my mind wandering despite my best efforts.
In the last six months, a lot has happened. Two of my cousins, Sofia and Elena, faced terrible ordeals.
It all started after Sofia and Matteo's wedding. We all thought Uncle Gio would be content with the power he got from being in-laws with a powerful crime family like the Rossis, but that wasn't enough for him. He had plans for all of us—his daughters, my sister, me. To him, we were tools. Objects to be traded for alliances and influence..
But Matteo saw right through Uncle Gio. That's why he hired bodyguards for all of us. And when Uncle Gio tried to seize the assets in our trust, Matteo stepped in and forced him to release it.
After that, Ari and I left. We were called ungrateful brats for not signing off our inheritance to Uncle Gio, but we didn’t care. We were finally free.
