Page 26 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

Nothing aboutninesiblings. Nothing about a sister who’d passed. Nothing about who he’d been before he’d become Parisi Enterprises.

Brianna contemplated the phone in her hand. She knew more now. Details that might allow her to find out about his family. It would be wrong to do an internet search on the sister he’d lost. Wrong to poke into his private life that way. An invasion of privacy. And who knew if the information would even be correct. She was quickly learning gossip columns didn’t need a shred of truth or evidence to print whatever might get clicks or sell magazines.

But did she owe Lorenzo scruples when he had essentially put Gio in danger by allowing knowledge of him to be leaked to his rival?

Or was that your own fault for coming to Palermo at all?

Brianna blew out a breath. Maybe it wasn’t about fault. Maybe it was just that...choices had consequences. Unforeseen ones. And a person had to deal with them without worrying about whose fault those consequences were.

And with that thought, she set her phone aside and got ready for the day. She wanted to spend it with Gio, because she’d be going to the art show tonight. She tried not to think about how much she hated the idea of Lorenzo attending with a date.

He could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. He did not want any kind of serious relationship and she couldn’t engage in anything else, not with Gio involved. It was all very mature and adult, really. Heshoulddate. Touch whomever he wanted. Have sex with a hundred women on his office floor.

She accidentally snapped the hair band in her hand by pulling it too hard. The sting of the snap was enough to remind her that what she’d said to him last night was true and perfectly acceptable.

She didn’t have tolikeher feelings to have them. The truth was, no matter how pathetic, she hadn’t fully gotten over Lorenzo in their two years apart. She’d been able to set aside her broken heart while focusing on becoming a mother, but it didn’t change the fact that accepting he wasn’t a violent threat to Gio meant...he was just the man she’d known.

Loved.

And how did she just get over that? Never had she felt such a connection to a man before, and maybe that was one-sided. Maybe his escape was simply growing tired of her and not wanting to deal with the fallout.

But if he didn’t believe inlove, maybe his sudden, unexplained exit two years ago had been less about her not mattering atall, and more about her mattering...a great deal.

She paused with the hairbrush halfway through a stroke in her hair. If she hadn’t mattered, he wouldn’t haveescapedlike a scared man. Wouldn’t he have just told her it was over? Wouldn’t it have all happened at a normal hour? Not sneaking away in the middle of the night like a desperate man.

Brianna sat with this thought for a while, not knowing what to do with it. If she’d had it back home, before she’d reunited with him, she would have told herself she was a fanciful idiot.

But every way he’d behaved toward Gio, every new thing she learned about him in these short few days...did not speak to a man who ran away. Something had topromptthe escape.

Could it have been fear?

She rolled her eyes at herself. Now she was really grasping for straws. She finished getting ready and then went downstairs in search of her parents and son. They weren’t in the dining room, but the staff insisted she sit and eat something, and since she was hungry, she didn’t argue.

She ate and drank some coffee and texted her parents. They texted back they were in the playroom upstairs, so once she was done Brianna went to find them.

When she did, she realized it wasn’t just her parents and Gio, it was Lorenzo as well. Gio had a little bin of brightly colored plastic balls in one corner, and Lorenzo was sprawled on the floor in the other. They were clearly engaging in some game. Gio never got too close, but he threw balls Lorenzo’s way and squealed in delight every time Lorenzo made an exaggerated effort to catch the ball, and then dramatically bobbled it before catching it securely.

Her parents sat on a little couch, clutching mugs of tea, smiling indulgently at both of them. Brianna stood in the doorway, watching silently, her heart swelling painfully in her chest.

This was everything Gio deserved. And Lorenzo too. He was obviously a man born to be a father, or perhaps made to be one through circumstance. But clearly, any child was lucky to have Lorenzo in their corner.

She got a little choked up about it, but she didn’t let herself cry. Just watched her son and his father engage in their little game and tried not to hope too hard for anything more than this perfect moment.

Lorenzo was playing with his son. He didn’t let himself dwell on it too deeply. Later, in private, he would allow himself to feel the full joy of this moment, but for now he simply juggled another ball and watched Gio’s face light up in delight.

He knew Brianna’s parents were watching because they didn’t fully trust him yet, but he could feel their approval. This would be important—Gio clearly loved them as much as they doted on their grandson.

Lorenzo didn’t allow himself to think about introducing his siblings to his son, about bringing Gio into the Parisi fold. If he did... Well, all these emotions threatened to make him foolish. When he needed a clear head to ensure his son was protected.

He wasn’t sure exactly what caught his attention—had she made a noise? Had that subtle scent reached across the room and teased him? Was there something elemental about them—a magnetism that meant he would always know when she was near?

But he glanced over and Brianna stood in the doorway. She was watching the game, her eyes shiny, though she wasn’t crying. And it was not sadness on her face, but joy. A joy that echoed inside of him, bright and warm, like the time they’d been together before.

He was going to have to find a better way to navigate this. It was too dangerous.Shewas too dangerous.

Lorenzo must have looked too long in her direction, because Gio turned his attention to the door. He immediately forgot the balls and scrambled over to his mother, happily yelling, “Mama!” the whole way.

She knelt down to accept his eager hug and squeezed him tight. Just like when she’d greeted him at the house in New Jersey. As if they’d been parted for a long time when it couldn’t have been more than twelve hours.

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