Page 46 of The Billionaire's Vow

“Lily wants to know if you’ll consider illustrating more books.”

I gaped at him. “What? Because of this one book?”

“Yes.” He handed me an envelope. “I’ll send a copy via a shared drive. However, let me tell you first: it’s not a job offer, but it’s a start. You’ll need to submit samples.”

My head was spinning, and a rush of excitement and disbelief surged within me. “No way. Is this real?” I pressed my hand to my chest to try to calm my pulse and the out-of-control hammering of my heart, and then I opened the envelope.

“It is, and please tell me you copyrighted your work.”

There was a welcome letter, brochures, and a few samples of short stories. I wanted to explore them all and almost forgot Ian was waiting for my answer. “I did.”

He exhaled a noisy, relieved sigh. “Good. I recommend literary lawyer Holly Logan. Is it okay for me to have her contact you?”

“Uhm, sure,” I said excitedly.

“She’s amazing and trustworthy. If you don’t use her, don’t sign anything until a lawyer looks it over.” His tone was authoritative, and it was clear this was how the men in Rocco’s circle handled most things.

I sucked in the air. “Please, give me a minute so I can calm down without hyperventilating. Oh, my God. So this is real?”

He grinned broadly. “It’s a proposal, and the fact that she already loves your work is a big start.

‘However, handing it to you is the end of my involvement. Rocco hired me and my firm because Mr. Marini’s will is successive and may lead to extensive litigation. I have a good team to manage it. As for your illustration, Lily asked me, and that’s enough. Rocco certainly felt your artwork was worth showcasing.”

Rocco’s support was unwavering. He encouraged me to dream and find my passion and went all in to help it come true. Of course, he hadn’t known that his friends would give me an opportunity, but he told me to take a leap of faith with him.

I eagerly looked through the papers again and even stopped to look at the company’s website. On the website’s home page, a book had become a television series! Though my conscience reminded me that Lily Crane only expressed interest, hiring me wasn’t guaranteed. Still, I skimmed excitedly over one of the sample short stories to illustrate. A little boy had found a magic portal that took him on a journey to a multi-universe. My mind swirled with possibilities as I read further. And I couldn’t help marveling that it all happened because Rocco saw my work. “I’m shocked that Rocco did this, but why tell me today?”

“Because going into a difficult situation feels a lot better when you have a win. Rocco hoped it would boost your confidence in your value as a person,” he explained. “For better or worse, you are Rocco’s wife, a Marini, and future wife of the head of the Marini Empire.”

The magnitude of what was before me was too much. But Rocco was right: I needed to feel secure. That he organized this meeting with Ian amid his busy schedule and at his dear grandfather’s funeral touched me deeply.

A woman in a power suit approached our table. “Excuse me. Everyone has arrived for the meeting.”

Ian smiled at her. “Thank you, Evelyn.”

I tensed as nerves danced in my stomach.

“It’ll all be fine. Rocco will be there, and I know he’ll never allow anyone to hurt you,” Ian assured me.

I peered at him. “How can you be sure of that? I don’t expect him to go against his family for me.”

“Because he adores you,” he said. “Open your eyes, and you’ll see it, too.”

My insides warmed, and my chest fluttered.

We followed Evelyn up to the twenty-fifth floor and down a white stone and glass corridor to a set of double doors with a steel sign that read, “Boardroom.”

“Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom,” I told Ian.

“All right. I’ll wait for you outside so we can go in together.”

I thanked him, then headed to the bathroom in the opposite direction. At the sink, I washed my hands, then powdered my face, clearing away the streaks of tears. I could still see the picture of Rocco kneeling before the coffin, tears streaming down his face. No matter what else had happened today, or what was to come, my heart ached. My dear friend Luca was gone. His kind face floated across my vision.Mia Dolce Adelina. My sweet Adelina.Every time he would say it, I would smile. Heck, evenas an ornery teen, he still called me sweet.Laughing and shaking my head, I left the restroom, still reminiscing about the many times I had called him, and he answered with joy as if he was so happy to speak with me.

“Adelina.” My eyes shot up to Rocco’s father, Nico, standing only inches from where I stopped.

What did he want?

Nico gazed down his nose at me and stood taller, his closeness intimidating.

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