Page 24 of Bellini Bound
There was a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes when she spun around to face me. “As fun as that sounds, I may have fibbed earlier.”
It hit me like a ton of bricks that I’d let my guard down and welcomed a veritable stranger into my living quarters. All for nothing more than the promise of a temporary escape from reality in the form of alcohol. This house was locked down tighter than Fort Knox, so her being inside it meant she had some kind of relationship to Enzo, whether it be working or personal, and this “friendly” visitor likely had ulterior motives.
The distrust must’ve shown on my face because my guest rushed to explain, “I only meant that I have some cheese and crackers in my purse. While I love a good day drinking session, I’ll pay for it later if Matteo ends up working late ton—”
I cut her off suddenly. “Not to sound rude, but who are you?”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Guess we skipped over the meet the family part, didn’t we? I’m Summer. Matteo’s wife.”
“Sorry, I don’t know who that is.”
A dreamy smile crept onto her face. “The devastatingly handsome man who served as the best man.”
“The body double,” I mused.
Summer let out a giggle that had me wondering if she’d sampled some of the wine prior to knocking on my door. “Yeah, that threw me for a loop the first time I saw them together too.”
“He’s Enzo’sbrother, right?”
“Cousin,” she corrected before pursing her lips together in thought. “Though, I guess if you wanna get technical, they’re genetically half-brothers.”
My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “How does that work?”
Crossing the living space, she plopped down on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. “Their dads were identical twins.”
“Ah, gotcha.” As a medical professional, no further explanation was needed. The DNA contributed from their paternal side was identical, despite having different fathers.
“So, anyway, the food is for me, since you’re not hungry.”
My traitorous stomach chose that exact moment to rumble loudly. Heat crept onto my cheeks as I placed a hand over my midsection. “I might’ve fibbed a little, also.”
“That’s okay.” Summer patted the couch cushion beside her. “I have enough to share, if you want some.”
Over the past week, sleep had been my only reprieve from the gnawing hunger that consumed my every waking moment. Saliva filled my mouth at the promise of ending my self-imposed starvation, and I answered with an embarrassingly eager, “God, yes.”
She winked in response. “It’ll be our little secret.”
I doubted that, but I was well beyond caring at this point.
Summer made herself right at home, uncorking the wine and pulling out a pre-packaged charcuterie board—far fancier than the meager cheese and crackers she’d mentioned earlier—before grabbing the remote and cueing up a romcom on my TV.
She offered me the bottle, and I didn’t waste any time in taking a swig directly from it. The fruity flavor burst across my taste buds, and I hummed in appreciation. I was the furthest thing from a wine connoisseur, but one sip was enough to tell this was some high-end shit.
“All right. What did he do?” Summer’s voice had my head turning in her direction.
Her question cancelled out the calming effect of the wine. My blood pressure spiked as I thought about the man who was keeping me prisoner.
“He’s an overbearing, controlling asshole.”
Laughter burst from her lips. “Yeah, I’ve got one of those too. But it’s kinda hot though, right?”
My head fell back against the cushions with a frustrated groan. “He’s hot until he opens his mouth. Then all I want to do is punch him in the face.”
“Takes some getting used to,” she agreed.
I had zero interest ingetting used to it. I wanted to be set free so I could put this nightmare of a week behind me. But with my father’s life on the line, that was nothing more than a pipe dream. The harsh reality was that I was stuck here, shackled to Enzo Bellini until his last breath or mine, whichever came first.
Summer and I fell into companionable silence, passing the wine back and forth as we elected to focus on the movie. It provided a temporary—yet welcome—break in my solitary existence, and soon I found myself chuckling at the antics of the boss and assistant pretending to be engaged during a weekend in Alaska with his family.
