Page 58 of The Billionaire's Pact

“I was an admirer of his, too,” he admitted. “I’ve also branched out to brand ambassador for clothing and cologne lines. I do philanthropy to give back.”

“The World is Your Family project,” I added.

He nodded. “I’m still looking for more to do. If I can do all that, so can you.”

He’d managed to successfully change careers; his enthusiasm and assuredness was inspiring. But for me? My family always told me babies were my future. I even feared the possibility of wanting something I could never have. But that could change?

I touched my throat. “Gosh, wow. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Start with something you’re passionate about,” he suggested.

I grinned. “Passion again?”

“Always passion, Adelina,” he mused. “But seriously. What do you love? Say it without thinking.”

“I love to paint and create things I read?” I told him.

“Then you’ll do it,” Rocco said with sureness. “I know you were upset about the call, but I did it for us to have a chance. I’m willing to put in the work, but I need you to be willing to do so, too.”

He wasn’t asking for something out of line. A marriage would take a partnership to work. Mama tried with my father, but he never did his part. I would have to put in effort to make it work, and I vowed to try.

I bobbed my head. “Okay, Rocco.”

“Good. Now when you approach your interests, don’t think of it as impossible. Think about it as something you will do soon.” His words were wise, and I imbibed them.

Over the week, I walked the hollow halls, pulled down books to read with an espresso, or took long evening walks through the grounds. I caught up with Cassidy and her work in L.A. She was considering deferring law school for a longer break. We had both had gone from boarding school to college without taking time off. It was only natural to want time to live instead of study.

My major in global studies and minor in modern languages was for diplomatic work in the political sphere with my potential husband. That was what I’d told my family. However, there were still other dreams.

I wanted to study painting in Paris and Italy. Or take a chance at a career as an illustrator, like I’d done for the Bumble Bee Ball book. It was how I’d survived those years when I was with my parents. I’d chalk a sidewalk or draw on a desk. Sometimes, I’d made friends along the way and even helped spray paint a mural on the back of a building. Those worlds allowed me to express my feelings when I was hopeless. With the money I’d have as Rocco’s wife, I could be that beacon for other kids like me. But how would we incorporate it together? What about having children? He didn’t seem ready, but I still had to fulfill my family legacy. With Rocco, there was a chance at more. Could I really do them all?

Rocco would still kiss me before he left for work in town, and just those brief encounters made my day. It would linger on my lips, and I found myself waiting for that kiss now. And my hands that always gripped his waist were slower to let go.

The small conservatory at the back of the property, once used for birds and rare plants, became my personal haven. This Victorian-style structure, mainly constructed from iron and glass, was a treasure. Despite its mostly empty state, the few old cages and several patio chairs inside transformed it into my favorite room and a new private painting studio. A trip to the art supply shop in town with Isla resulted in the acquisition of drawing boards, easels, lighting, projectors, and paints, all under Rocco’s guidance. I was careful to only get what I needed, but I couldn’t help but be thrilled at the lengths he was willing to treat me.

My first project was inspired by the memorable dinner at Paul and Nadia’s. I’d been captivated by the impromptu band and the feeling of soaring, which I wanted to recapture in my art. I painted clouds, used photos to draw Paul, and made him a puppeteer, God in the clouds playing his piano, who moved a group of marionettes to play instruments falling in the sky. My color palette was bold and vibrant, like the art at Pisa. And with the dome shape of the roof that came out with much light, I made good progress, working even at night when the sky filled with stars.

I’d been absorbed in my painting one evening, with the day almost gone when my phone rang. It was Cassidy, who I missed dearly so I immediately answered.

“There you are, Gorgeous,” she said jovially.

“Here I am, Gorgeous,” I answered back. “What’s up?”

“Spoke to Nadia Crane about my maid of honor gown for the wedding,” she said. “I mean I expected a call from an assistant, but it was Nadia herself.”

“Oh, yeah? How did it go?” I asked and put my paintbrush in water.

“I have no idea. I died, and she talked to my ghost. Whatever I said, I have an appointment at Givenchy California when we get back.”

I chuckled and pushed my hair over my shoulders and saw I had a few paint splatters in it. “Nadia’s great. So, wait where are you now?”

“In Palm Springs,” she said. “Mom needed a vacation from our vacation. You know me, I don’t mind, I like all the pampering, and shopping. Oh, and I also went to a concert.”

“To see who?” I asked.

“Dynamic Dreamers,” she giggled.

I chuckled. “Get out. No way.”

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