His name is above the headline. Isabella. Porto Vecchio. And I’m in love with the man the papers call suspect.
Paolo Moretti: salt and cedar and a coat that swallows him. Ledger-precise. Scars stitched into his jaw. Hazel eyes that steady me and terrify me in the same breath. He carries power in his pockets and flashes of a past he can’t explain in his bones.
He rescued my pots. He pressed a sprig of rosemary into my palm and stayed for tea. He brought Piccola—a tiny rose he called apology—and learned how to tie a ribbon the way my grandmother taught me. We cooked badly. We kissed perfectly. Then his phone buzzed. Matteo summoned him. Crates fell. A photo surfaced. Men knocked at his door. The city started whispering a name I couldn’t unhear.
Stay with him and possibly be destroyed by the truth. Walk away and lose the only man who’s ever asked to stay. He offers locket and signatures and promises to cede his ledgers. He promises honesty. He promises to choose me.
He says he will stay. I want to believe him with everything that’s left of my careful heart. Will his truth save us—or bury us both?
Paolo Moretti: salt and cedar and a coat that swallows him. Ledger-precise. Scars stitched into his jaw. Hazel eyes that steady me and terrify me in the same breath. He carries power in his pockets and flashes of a past he can’t explain in his bones.
He rescued my pots. He pressed a sprig of rosemary into my palm and stayed for tea. He brought Piccola—a tiny rose he called apology—and learned how to tie a ribbon the way my grandmother taught me. We cooked badly. We kissed perfectly. Then his phone buzzed. Matteo summoned him. Crates fell. A photo surfaced. Men knocked at his door. The city started whispering a name I couldn’t unhear.
Stay with him and possibly be destroyed by the truth. Walk away and lose the only man who’s ever asked to stay. He offers locket and signatures and promises to cede his ledgers. He promises honesty. He promises to choose me.
He says he will stay. I want to believe him with everything that’s left of my careful heart. Will his truth save us—or bury us both?