Page 250 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

‘My family ruled over Perlano for hundreds of years from the very same estate. Each one changed it very little, but their marks are there. You may explore it when we are not working.’

Charlotte was pulled from the rabbit hole that she was mentally falling into and forced herself to pay attention to his words. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea,’ she responded automatically.

‘I assure you, it’s quite safe.’

She didn’t reply. She wasn’t about to argue with her boss when his idea of danger wasn’t hers. While it was very unlikely her father would even know of Perlano—he never saw the value in things unless they were important to him—there was no place picturesque enough, no gelato sweet enough to risk being caught off guard and dragged back to Perth. Her heart raced at the very thought.

Charlotte discreetly wiped her sweaty palms on the skirt of her dress and remained uncomfortably quiet as they approached Perlano.

The wild grasses disappeared, replaced by rolling green hills. The closer they drew, the clearer she could see that each one was covered in neat, vibrant vineyards. Over on the right, the sea was once again visible, but so were houses, stacked close together down the hills and stretching to the water. Every single one had a dull red roof and aged, sand-toned plaster. It was like a postcard made real.

They turned off the highway and drove along narrow roads, climbing higher and higher, closer to the vineyards. Charlotte felt as if she could stick her arm out and touch the bright leaves that surrounded them. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight looming at the top of the hill. All she could make out was an obelisk of a tower, rectangular and tall with a portion of its ramparts visible. The stone, even this far away, looked aged. It could have been an intimidating sight, jarring, but it wasn’t. Not with the great, silvery olive trees and lush oleander shrubs around it, pink blossoms bright against the monolithic backdrop.

Finally, they approached large wrought-iron gates that swung open, leading to a long driveway. Charlotte had always known that Enzo was the Conte del Perlano, but seeing and knowing were two different things. She had always thought of his title as nothing more than exactly that. A title. This was something else. She hadn’t expected an estate as grand as this or a building that had seen so many centuries but still looked like a home. Inviting and warm.

‘This is beautiful,’ she remarked as the car came to a stop.

‘You sound surprised.’ She could hear the teasing in his voice and found the smallest of smirks on his face.

Well, that was new. Was Enzo a different man here? For some reason she found herself wanting to know. Wanting to uncover that side of him. An impulse she’d never once had before.

‘I am, a little,’ she admitted.

‘Come,’ he said, elegantly exiting the car.

She joined him as he made his way to a large door where an elderly woman with a kind face and salt-and-pepper hair tied back in a bun waited.

‘What about our bags?’

‘They will be placed in our rooms.’ Gone was the playful Enzo from only a moment ago, and in his place stood a man even more tense than usual.‘Buonasera, Isabella.’

‘Enzo!’ She took his face in her hands even though she had quite a height to reach. Her eyes sparkled, and there was clear affection in her voice as she said, ‘You have been away too long, Leoncino.’

‘I’ve been busy.’ Placing his hand above Charlotte’s elbow, Enzo urged her forward. At first, she felt the touch like a brand, the current startling. But then it changed. The gentleness of his grip and the warmth of his hand calmed that unsettled feeling into something even more unexpected. A feeling of being grounded. Charlotte wasn’t used to being handled gently or, in the past two years, at all. But here was a powerful man who was tense and curt and clearly on edge, and yet he controlled all that, shielded her from whatever was raging within him. It made her feel safe. And curious. And confused.

‘This is Celeste Park,’ Enzo continued. ‘Make sure she has a comfortable room. Celeste, this is my housekeeper, Isabella. She will help you with whatever you need.’

‘Benvenuta,Celeste,’ the old woman said, taking her hands. ‘We will get you all settled, yes.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Isabella.’ She meant it. It had been a very long time since Charlotte had felt anything close to the warmth this old lady exuded.

Still grasping Charlotte’s hands, Isabella turned to look at Enzo and added, ‘Your room is ready. It’s always waiting for you.’

‘Grazie, Isabella.’

Charlotte watched him smile stiffly at the housekeeper and walk away.

Isabella sighed. ‘Come, let me show you to your room.’

Charlotte was certain that it was sadness she now saw on Isabella’s face and was filled with a burning curiosity to know exactly what had happened here, but she couldn’t ask Enzo. They didn’t have that relationship. The last thing she needed was to give him a reason either to fire her or remember her.

CHAPTER THREE

ENZOWANDEREDTHEGROUNDS. He had no idea how long he had been out there, but the sun had set, leaving golden streaks in the darkening sky. The long shadows cut by the trees were no longer distinguishable from the darkness around them. When he looked back, the house was bathed in light. Every lamp burned, casting a glow through every window. Hidden lights around the plant beds illuminated the walls, with only the faintest glimmer caressing the surrounding leaves. He could never forget how beautiful it was in Perlano, in his home, but it was also where he felt the rawest. Like every healed-over scab had been torn open.

He vividly recalled his brother approaching him in this very spot with a look of guilt, asking to speak to him privately. Enzo glanced up at the window to what had been his room. The place where Emilio admitted that he’d had sex with Gia. Enzo had wanted to get far away from the memories, but as he looked towards the chapel whose spire he could only just make out, he knew that move had taken him away from his mother too.

He had loved her. She had always told him how proud she was of him, how impressed she was by his readiness to accept his duty to the family. To protect all that was theirs, just as his father had. Enzo had spent so much of his life living up to that image. He’d always been included in his father’s work, and it pleased him to no end. And as he grew older and better understood the business and would sometimes offer his own take, the greatest validation his father could give him was a nod of approval. He lived for those moments.