Page 25 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

She had been so full of hope and light. Everything he knew of becoming successful was grit and hard work and sacrifice. The strangling balance between ensuring all his brothers and sisters had everything, while also building an empire that would see them always well looked after.

That trip to Florence had been the first thing he’d ever done for himself and only himself, and Brianna had been the fresh air he’d desperately needed. The idea that on the other side of this moment there could be such sparkling optimism.

And then she’d started to look at him with something deeper in her eyes than the dazzlement he’d seen when they first met. Like she knew him, though he never spoke of his past. Like she could offer him this brand-new world and he could be in it. They could be in it. Together.

And he had remembered. What it felt like to hope. What it felt like to think he’d finally arrived at a place where he could relax.

And Rocca’s cold, lifeless body. A victim to all that hope.

“Lorenzo—”

But he did not wish to go back to Rocca’s death. To his summer with Brianna. You could not go back. You could only go forward. “If you do not wish me to be there, I do not need to be.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, as if he was the biggest fool she’d ever met. “Good night, Lorenzo,” she said, pointing him toward the door.

And though he was not one for obeying orders, he left. Because it was better than staying and risking everything.

CHAPTER NINE

BRIANNASLEPTLIKEthe dead. Luckily, no amount of inner turmoil had been able to stop the complete and utter exhaustion that had claimed her. When she woke up, groggy and unsure of where she was, she still felt like she’d been hit by a truck, but at least like she could handle the damage of all that.

The truck that was Lorenzo and this place and her life upended. She could handle it because she had to. For Gio.

She didn’t hear him making any noise in his crib, so she didn’t get out of bed. But when she grabbed her phone, she saw a text from her parents.

Heard G babbling as we went down to breakfast. Took him with us.

At the mention of breakfast, Brianna realized she was starving. She should get dressed and head downstairs. Take Gio off her parents’ hands. But the bed was so soft, the quiet so nice, and all her inner agitation from yesterday was stillrightthere.

She’d almost had sex with Lorenzo. Just...right there in his office, like she had no will power whatsoever. She could blame it on fatigue or any number of things, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d allowed far too much, even if not that final act.

Worse, enjoyed it.

She could not repeat it if she had any sense of self-preservation at all, even though a repeat seemed to be all she could consider.

I will not say no should you come begging.

She let out a shuddering breath, too many sensual memories assaulting her. Yesterday. Two years ago. She did not understand how two bodies could be so clearly made for one another, but their minds and hearts could be on such different planets.

Well, they agreed on Gio. They agreed on hard work and art. They had always had plenty to talk aboutbefore, so it wasn’t like they weren’t well suited.

But she believed in love.

And he thought it was a fairy tale.

A man who took care of his little brothers and sisters, and then their children. Who installed toddler gates and had beds and cribs and playrooms. Who knew how to bathe a child, how to be patient with them. How to accept them so easily, so wholly.

The two things did not compute for her. He loved his family deeply. Protected them, provided for them, clearly, if his brother with children worked for him. He was afamilyman.

And he did not believe in love. She couldn’t work it out in her mind. Everything about her small family was centered in love.

She thought of the way he’d talked about his sister, the one who’d died. She’d thought if he really didn’t want to discuss it, he wouldn’t have mentioned her at all. But he’d gone completely blank when he’d said,It is of no matter. She is gone.

Gone.

Maybe there was more to that story. Or maybe there was another story. A lost love before her. Something that had soured him on the idea ofromanticlove, and so he threw all that he had inside of him into those he was related to.

Which she was still trying to wrap her mind around, since she hadn’t known he was from such a large family. When she’d been searching for information about him after finding out about Gio, she hadn’t seen much beyond business articles and the screaming stories about his violent tendencies and ruthless tactics that had left his rival’s son in a hospital bed.

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