Page 84 of The Billionaire's Pact

I felt lighter and freer after our heart-to-heart. Placing my phone in my back pocket, I picked up a brush and quickly fixed my hair, leaving it in loose waves down my back. I then took extra time powdering my face, brushing my brows, and smearing lip gloss on my lips before leaving the bedroom.

“Adelina, is that you? Come in here.” Rocco’s rich voice called out from the kitchen.

He gave me a wave at the archway, then returned to stirring spices into a massive pot on the stove. The sauce’s aroma made my mouth water, as did Rocco. He had a few buttons undone at the collar of his white shirt. Which made him look sexy. He held up a spoon. “Come taste it.”

I went and drank from the spoon he held out. Incredibly delicious. “Not bad.”

He scoffed and swiped my butt. “You’re lying.”

I grinned. “I am.”

An older couple walked in, and Rocco introduced me. “Aunt Rita, Uncle Walter, this is Adelina.”

“Belfiore,” they said almost at the same time. It still shocked me how so many people knew my family. My stomach jittered with nerves, but they hugged me like they’d known me for years.

His aunt held me at arm’s length. “You’re a beautiful woman. You’ll make a lovely bride.”

I dipped my head humbly, but was a little put off. All it takes is looking good to be a wife? On the other hand, she was being kind. “Thank you.”

“You went to college in Massachusetts?” his Uncle Walter asked.

I nodded and smiled. “Yes.”

“Boston is as beautiful as Dublin,” his Aunt Rita said. “I loved walking the bridge over Charles River and having dinner in Harvard Square. Our son, Gino, went there, just like Rocco. And Simone, whom you’ll soon meet, is an artist.”

“Where are they?” Rocco asked.

“Gino’s eating. Simone’s glued to her phone,” his Uncle Walter griped.

Rocco turned to add more spices.

A man around Rocco’s age, who was wearing an ACF Fiorenza shirt tip-toed into the kitchen with a finger over his lips. He opened a drawer, took a spoon, and crept behind Rocco, his hand reaching for the pot.

Rocco hit his hand at lightning speed. “Hey, what are you doing? Go away.”

We all burst into laughter.

Rocco turned and peered at us with a scowl. “You, too, Adelina?”

I covered my laugh.

Aunt Rita side-hugged me. “Let her laugh. It’s funny.”

I placed a finger on my chin. “Is AC Fiorenza a soccer team, just like Manchester United?”

Roars and guffaws erupted from all the Marinis.

Gino held up his palms. “The wedding is off.”

“We just have to make her a fan by making her watch football every day for the rest of her life,” Rocco said. He came over and lifted me up, and I let out a yelp as he carried me off to dinner. His pasta dish was delicious, and the conversation stayed light on ideas about where we could honeymoon.

“Paris,” Simone suggested. “That’s where I’d go.”

“Not anytime soon,” Rita said.

His family had been all over the world, and I felt smaller as I listened. There was so much I hadn’t seen or done, yet the more they talked and included me in Rocco’s future travels, the more hope it gave me.

The door closed, and Rocco pulled me into his arms, He kissed my lips and down my neck, lifting the end of my dress to grab my ass. “Mmm. I haven’t fucked you in here yet.”

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