Page 84 of Bellini Bound
“Because I love him,” I declared, hating that the first time I said those words aloud, it wasn’t to the man in question.
A choked squeak escaped her parted lips when I dropped that bomb.
And because Summer was the absolute best, she brought both of her fists to eye level and opened her fingers in unison with an ultra-dramatic, “Boom.”
I turned to her. “Do we have to stay for lunch?”
“Nope.” She popped the P. We turned to leave, but Summer couldn’t resist one last parting shot over her shoulder, aimed at my mother. “She doesn’t just love him; she loves riding his giant horse cock every night too.”
My hand came up to cover my mouth, stifling my laughter when my mother’s scandalized shriek reached my ears.
“Oh my God. I can’t believe you just did that,” I panted, doubling over as we made our departure.
Summer shrugged. “She needed to learn a valuable lesson.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
Smug, she announced, “That Bellinis stick together. Family is everything to us, whether you are born into it or bound by marriage. Anyone would be lucky to call themselves a member of ours.”
It had taken me a minute to get there, but I could now admit I was proud to say I carried the Bellini name. Not only had this family never held the sins of my father against me, but they’d taken me in like one of their own.
There was no doubt that I was exactly where I belonged.
I waited until Enzo’s mouth was full of pasta before saying, “Ran into my mom at that fundraising thing today.”
His eyes lifted from his plate, and I squirmed in my seat when his chewing slowed. After swallowing, he took a sip of red wine. “Yeah, I know.”
“Oh.” I busied myself swirling noodles through the extra sauce in my bowl. “And you’re not concerned about her approaching me?”
He cocked his head. “Should I be?”
“No.” Steeling my nerves, I wiped my sweaty palms on my leggings. “But something interesting came up while I was talking to her.”
Enzo stopped eating to give me his undivided attention. “What’s that?”
My heart rate kicked into triple time, and I swear it was trying to escape from my chest. God, I was nervous.
“I, uh—” Pulling in a deep breath, I confessed on the exhale, “That I love you.”
The fork fell from his hands, clattering against the table, and he stared at me unblinkingly for so long that my stomach bottomed out. Iknewit was too soon to tell him—I mean, who falls in love in only a fewmonths and with someone whom you were blackmailed into marrying—but I just so desperately wanted him to know how I felt.
Clearing his throat several times, he rasped, “What?”
It took a minute before I worked up the courage to repeat myself. “I said—”
He held up a hand, cutting me off. “I heard you. What I meant was, are you sure?”
I blinked at him in shock but quickly recovered. “What the hell, Enzo?”
Dragging a hand down his face, he let out a heavy exhale. “I’m not sure I’m lovable, Allie.”
My mouth dropped open. “Of course you are. Why would you even think that?”
Enzo shrugged. “Because in my thirty-six years, no one has ever loved me.”
Without conscious thought, I was moving. Rising from my chair, I crawled onto my husband’s lap and cradled his face. “Honey, that can’t be true. I’m sure your mother loved you. And what about your sister?”
His eyes slid closed, and my heart began to fracture at seeing the pain etched across his face. But then it damn near shattered when he finally spoke.
