Page 101 of Own Me

His fingers tightened around his phone. "Nonna—-"

"Mi dispiace molto." I'm so very sorry."But I had to say yes."

Fifteen

MIAMI, FLORIDA

Three months. It had been three months since his ownnonnahad helped Ysabel disappear, and even though he had already spent a fortune of his own money in search of his missingfidanzata—-

Where are you, Ysabel?

It was often whispered about in Boston that there was no one better thanLa Stregaat making people...disappear. Most times, that typically meant the person missing was already six feet under. But in hisfidanzata'scase?

Massimo was the one who felt as if he had ceased to exist, the moment he found out that the only way to find the girl he loved was to beat his grandmother at her own game.

Where are you, ciliegina mia?

He had barely slept since she had gone missing, and it was only when he had almost gotten himself run over by a damn school bus that his eldest brother Giancarlo had reluctantly pulled rank and ordered Massimo to choose between two alternatives.

You will end up killing yourself at the rate you're going, and then what? Will you be able to make it up to Ysabel if you are already dead? Do all of us a favor, fratello—-either take a fucking break from searching for her or go on a working trip to Miami.

As painful as it was to admit, Massimo knew that every word his brother had uttered was true, and so here he was, playing the role of a billionaire entrepreneur and killing it. He had just closed another multimillion real estate deal for hisfamiglia,but the success meant nothing to him.

Where are you, my love?

Massimo bowed to the group of Japanese investors that had partnered with the Marchettis for a project in Tokyo, but as soon as they stepped out of the private room he had reserved for their meeting, the polite smile completely dropped from his lips.

I miss you, Ysabel. I love you. Where are you?

He was about to leave the restaurant when its manager hurried after him."Mr. Marchetti? There is a Ms. Ynez Ossini on the phone for you, and she says—-"

"Whatever she says, you can bet it's a damn lie."

Those who were near enough to hear his words ended up gasping; the expressions on their faces made it clear that they knew who Ynez was...and just as clear was the fact that none of them intended to keep this incident to themselves.

"I'm so sorry, sir," the restaurant manager stammered. "I was not aware..."

"I have a restraining order against her," Massimo explained curtly. "I appreciate if you'd get the word out about this."

Massimo heard the incessant click of cameras as the other guests hurriedly took photos of him as he walked away. Such invasion of his privacy would have been unheard of in his city, and it was one of the reasons why Massimo rarely traveled out of Boston.

Ysabel was the only reason he had flown around the fucking worldtwicein three months, and now that he was done with his duty here—-

Where are you, Ysabel?

He had just walked back into his hotel when a blast of air-conditioning struck him, and with it came the scent of...cherries?

His heart slammed against his chest even though he knew he was being fucking fanciful. But all the same, he found himself sending up a desperate prayer to the heavens.Dio aiutami. Help me, God.

Ysabel had not stopped loving him in the five years that he had mistaken Ynez for her. Or at least that was what his grandmother had insisted. But either way—-Massimo knew he was willing to wait far, far longer than that. If forever was how long it took to find hisfidanzataand beg for her forgiveness—-

I will do anything just to see you, ciliegina mia. Anything.

The scent of cherries refused to disappear, and even though he was convinced it was God punishing him with false hope just as he deserved, Massimo finally looked up—-

And it really was...his Ysabel, in a wedding dress.

FORZA, YSABEL! YOUcan do this!

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