Page 36 of Sinfully Loved

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Page 36 of Sinfully Loved

"As long as she doesn't put me in a dress that's as imposing as the wedding dress…"

"She's shown extravagant taste in that regard," he announced before silence fell, and I focused on the trees that passed us beside the road.

* * *

Fiero didn't just drop me off in Naples, no. He slipped into the role of bodyguard and accompanied me everywhere. He wasn't particularly subtle about it, nor was Natale, who followed Carlotta around like a shadow. Both men were not particularly talkative, which meant it was up to us women not to let an awkward silence arise.

Facing Carlotta after Vincenzo had given me an insight into the circumstances of her birth and childhood felt strange. But I couldn't let that show if I didn't want to betray Vincenzo's trust – there had been so little of it. Otherwise, he would hardly have told me this well-guarded family secret.

"How is my brother doing? Is he a complete idiot? Incompetent? Is he giving you a hard time?"

I shook my head. You couldn't put it that way. However, it was also hard to say that he was an affable fellow who cared about his fellow man. "He is… special."

"That's the friendly option, right?"

Grinning, I nodded. "I think he's trying. However, sometimes I wonder what's going on in his head."

For example, when his mood suddenly changed he became downright mean. I could stand it – but I wondered if he also treated his siblings the same way.

"I wonder about that, too. When he arrived and said he was getting married, I was blindsided at first."

I couldn't help grinning.

"Emilio later told me how this came about and what it all meant. However, I still find it surprising that he just agreed to it."

"Sometimes he acts like he'd been forced to do it."

"In a way, that's true. He wouldn't have been able to say no. He was aware of what was at stake, and in cases like this, my brother likes to prove he has a damn soft heart after all."

"He has a heart?"

Small laugh lines formed around Carlotta's eyes. "At least, that's what the rumor is."

She looked at me with a wink and then pointed across the square to a store that looked anything but modern. It certainly couldn't compete with the big chains, but I had confidence in Carlotta and her expertise. After all, she had already proven it at the wedding.

"What kind of clothes do you prefer?" she asked as we strolled across the square leisurely, the two men close behind us. I got the feeling they had their eyes and ears everywhere and knew precisely what was happening in our surroundings.

This was not at all conspicuous, as evidenced by the glances that kept gliding in our direction.

"Light summer dresses, actually. Anything beyond that is repugnant to me. My father used to treat me like a doll in a fashion store. Like I was standing in a shop window to be admired."

"Yes," she said but shook her head. "That's not even on the cards."

"And what's up for discussion?"

"Something that will make your father forget why he's always getting on Emilio's nerves. And it should soften Vincenzo a little. Maybe it will come in handy if he doesn't look at you as disinterestedly as at a Pollock painting."

"I guess his thing is the Renaissance, right? Da Vinci, Raphael, Titian, Botticelli? Brunelleschi seems more like his style."

Carlotta gave me a sideways glance. "You have a point. Although none of us is really interested in art. Or religion, for that matter."

"I wasn't even baptized," Natale grumbled behind us. I couldn't help making an amused noise.

Probably the priest had refused because of his name. Natale Cruciani.Who didn't get the wrong idea?

"Of course, we don't communicate this to the outside world. That would be counterproductive because quite a few families are still strict believers. It's somehow still very present down here."

I didn't even want to imagine what it was like to grow up under such conditions. In my opinion, indoctrination with religious views offered more dangers than advantages. And if there was a God, it was certainly not a merciful one, but a damn cruel one.




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