Page 33 of Vengeful Vows

He laughs. “I have a housekeeper and a chef. I mean it when I say I want you to have the life of your dreams.”

He’s talking about me, specifically, not some vague future wife, and his words make my brain spin.

“How many kids do you want?”

“Are we really discussing this?”

Seemingly puzzled, he knits his dark eyebrows together. “Why wouldn’t we? It’s a natural enough conversation.”

But not one I’ve ever had with anyone else. This is becoming real. Maybe too real?

Suddenly I remember the text I sent to Amelia.Don’t pinch me. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Bella

There’sanother knock on the door, and this time a man wearing a suit enters and glances around.

“Enrico,” Marcello greets.

The man responds with a tight nod before stepping back out of the room.

Of course Marcello knows Enrico; otherwise he likely wouldn’t have gotten past Sergio.

What does it say about me that I now accept this behavior as normal?

A moment later, a tall, broad man walks in, and the door closes behind him.

“Lorenzo!” Marcello stands.

Unsure how to react, I remain seated.

The two men embrace warmly, patting each other’s backs before hugging once more.

There’s an ease between them, and I watch, interested by their dynamic. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Marcello so genuinely happy and relaxed.

When the two step apart, Lorenzo looks at me.

I’m not sure what I expected, especially with the rumors about him.

He’s ridiculously handsome, and the smile he bestows on me could melt the hardest heart. “You must be Isabella.”

His manner relaxes me instantly, and I return his greeting. “Bella.”

“Lorenzo.” He introduces himself informally and offers his hand.

I accept, and then I’m surprised when he lifts my hand to his lips and looks at me intently. The way he quirks his lips reminds me of Marcello, and I notice a slight family resemblance.

“Delighted to meet you, Bella.”

My voice has vanished, so I don’t respond.

Marcello clears his throat. “That’s enough, Lorenzo,” he warns, pure menace in his tone. “Hands off her.”

Instantly I wrench my gaze to his.

I recall his warning from the first night. “There’s one thing you need to remember. No one touches what’s mine. Are we clear?” But I never expected he’d react this strongly to such a benignly innocent gesture from his cousin.