Page 157 of Brutal Crown
He chuckles. “Soon.”
“That’s what you said the last time,” I huff, pretending to be exhausted.
But I’m excited. I love surprises. They make me giddy with anticipation. They make me happy.
He makes me happy.
So I keep following him. He leads me up a narrow spiral staircase I didn’t know existed, tucked behind a panel in the east wing. His hand never leaves mine, his fingers interlaced tight with mine like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
There’s a door on top of the staircase above us. He glances back at me with one brow raised as we get there.
“Do you trust me?”
I chuckle nervously at the seriousness in his tone.
“Of course I do,” I say softly.
My heart stutters uncontrollably as he moves to open the door. He pushes it open, and a gasp leaves my lips.
“Oh my god.”
The rooftop opens into a private garden bathed in soft golden light. Wrought-iron lanterns hang from the arches above, their glow dancing over flower beds and twirling vines. Stone planters spill with roses and night-blooming jasmine. A low table sits at the center, set for two, holding a bottle of sparkling wine and a steaming, mouthwatering meal.
The night is velvet-black above us, stars blooming in the sky one by one.
“You did all this?” I breathe.
“I had help.” He shrugs one shoulder, like it’s nothing.
“I love it,” I say softly, eyes still drinking in the view.
He pulls out my chair for me, and we sit. I grab the bottle of wine and chuckle at the description on the bottle.
“Sparkling grape juice?”
“You can’t have alcohol while pregnant, so I thought this would be the perfect non-alcoholic alternative.”
I bite my lower lip at his thoughtfulness.
For a while, we just eat quietly. The food is simple: grilled fish, soft bread, olives, and honeyed figs. It tastes better than anything I’ve had in weeks.
Francesco watches me with a look I’ve only recently learned to read. Not lust or possession. Something deeper.
“What?” I murmur, feeling scrutinized under his gaze.
“You’re very beautiful.”
I glance down at my fork, a blush overtaking my face.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“This is our first date.”
I smile at the realization. “It is, actually. Wow. In that case…” My eyes twinkle. “Tell me about yourself. Your likes, dislikes, and what you’re into.”
“You,” he answers, then takes a sip of wine. “I’m into you.”
I shake my head at him, but I’m laughing. And he’s laughing too.
