Page 66 of Taken By Sin
“This place doesn’t change much,” he says, a soft smile on his lips. “That’s what I love about it.”
I glance at him, catching the flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. “It’s beautiful,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can see why you missed it.”
We turn into a small piazza, where tables spill out from cafés and the air is filled with the scent of espresso and fresh pastries. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses mingles with the distant cry of seagulls, and it feels like we’ve stepped into a postcard.
A tiny boutique catches my eye, its windows lined with handmade jewelry and colorful scarves that flutter gently in the breeze. I tug his hand, nodding toward the shop. “Let’s go in.”
Sin laughs but follows me inside, the cool air and soft hum of conversation a welcome contrast to the warm sun outside. I drift toward a display of delicate necklaces, each one threaded with tiny glass beads and silver charms shaped like stars and seashells.
“This one suits you,” he says, picking up a bracelet and holding it out. The tiny charms glint in the soft light, and I can’t help but smile as he clasps it around my wrist, his fingers brushing my skin.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, running my fingers over the cool metal. “But you don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” he says simply, his voice low but certain. “A little piece of Portofino to take with you.”
Warmth floods my chest as I glance up at Sin. There’s something so natural about being here with him, like I’m seeing a side of him that only exists in this place, surrounded by these streets and memories.
We step back outside, the sun bright as we weave throughthe streets. Bria comes over, carrying no less than six different shopping bags. “I got you something!” She grins.
I smile, taking the small bag from her outstretched hand. “You spoil me.”
“You’ll need it,” she assures me, waiting impatiently on the balls of her feet for me to open it.
Inside, wrapped in pink tissue paper is a stunning masquerade mask. Cascading from the edges and around the eye holes are glittering diamonds, creating the illusion of liquid drops frozen in time. The diamonds vary in size, with the largest framing the eyes and smaller ones trailing outward, catching the light with every movement.
A soft satin ribbon in a matching rose gold hue secures the mask; it is brilliant.
“For the party Sin told me about,” she gushes. “I love throwing parties, so if you want me to help, I totally will!”
I hug her. “I was going to talk to you about that over the weekend. I would love your help! This is gorgeous.” I hold up the mask, nearly in tears. “Thank you so much, Bria.”
Sin checks his watch, then glances back up at me. “I hate to break this moment up, but its time.”
Time to finally meet their dad.
The mansion looms just ahead, an imposing blend of old-world elegance and modern grandeur, its towering façade framed by perfectly trimmed hedges and fountains that glimmer in the late afternoon sun. As we approach, mystomach tightens, the weight of the moment settling heavily on me. I smooth my dress for the hundredth time, feeling small against the scale of Sin’s world.
“Relax,” Sin says gently, reaching over to squeeze my hand as Rollins winds up the drive. “He’s… a lot, but I’ve got you.”
I try to smile, but the knot in my chest doesn’t budge. “What if he doesn’t like me?” I murmur, noting the cliffs edge and vast ocean to the right.
He glances at me, his jaw tightening slightly before he exhales. “Then that’s his problem, not yours. Or mine.”
“He is sweeter with girls,” Bria chimes in, “but he’s weird with outsiders.” She frowns. “I don’t look at you that way, but you have to understand our father is the leader of the Donati name, the patriarch of everything. He trusts no one.”
Wonderful.
The car rolls to a stop in front of the grand entrance, where a uniformed valet steps forward to greet us.
Sin gets out first, circling around to open my door. His touch on my lower back is reassuring as we make our way up the wide stone steps, but my nerves are electric now, each one buzzing with the uncertainty of what’s to come.
The heavy double doors open to reveal a sprawling foyer, marble floors gleaming beneath an enormous crystal chandelier. A butler greets us with a polite bow, his expression unreadable, and directs us toward the sitting room.
“He’s waiting,” Sin murmurs as we follow the butler through the labyrinth of halls, his voice steady but low.
Maxwell takes step beside me, bumping my shoulder. “He’s in a mood today,” he warns us.
When we enter the room, the first thing I notice is the man standing by the window, his back to us. Even in silhouette, his presence is commanding—broad shoulders, a perfectly tailored suit, and an air of authority that fills the space.