“Seriously, tell me why.”
“I locked it down with Aurelia.” Now, I grinned wider, remembering what she’d said to me over and over ... and over and over. It was definitely a favorite memory of mine.
“That was a one-eighty.”
“Well, I can be very convincing.”
“Am I gonna meet her?”
“Not sure you want to. Because I’ll look like this the entire time.” I leaned toward him, smirking widely once again.
Now he was the one to punch me. “Come on, let’s set something up. I gotta make sure I humiliate you in front of her.”
“I don’t think you can. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“What about that time we had to share a shower at the gym because all the others were broken?”
I laughed at the memory. “Honestly, she’d probably think it’s hot.”
“Jesus . . .”
“What?” I asked with a smirk. “We’re both good-looking guys. Could have recorded that and put it on OnlyFans.”
“I’m gonna punch you for real this time.”
“Now it looks like I’ll be the one embarrassing you at this dinner.”
He made good on his word and really did punch me hard in the arm.
I grimaced as I leaned forward. “Still worth it.”
The car came to a stop in front of the pavilion.
“Need a minute?”
“Nope.” I shook my arm to get the cramps out of the muscle. “Let’s do this.”
The iron gates opened, and we were let onto my private property, a three-story villa that wasn’t connected to any other building—a very rare find in Rome. The security guys were outside, some stationed on the roof incognito, and I had a few positioned in certain corners of the house.
The only place they weren’t was in my wing on the top floor. The only two allowed there were my butler, Elio, and Medusa. It was a long walk to the very top, over the thick carpets, passing the Egyptian statues that belonged to my family by birthright, and past the sculptures and other collectibles that made my home a personal museum—and reminded anyone who walked in there exactly who the fuck I was.
I had an elevator, but I always took the stairs to keep my ass tight. I was almost there when my mom decided to call me.
I pulled the phone out of my pocket and answered. “Hey, Ma.”
“My boy,” she said with so much pride that only a mother could produce. “How are you?”
“Good. Just had a meeting with—”
“How’s Aurelia? She still around?”
“Ah, that’s the reason you’re calling,” I said with a chuckle. “You don’t give a damn about me.”
“Of course I do, son. I haven’t heard from you in two weeks, so I wanted to check in.”
“Check in on my personal life, you mean.”
She became a lot sterner, the authoritative disciplinarian, because my dad hadn’t had the balls to fill the role. “Answer the question, Con.”
