Page 35 of Monster in Disguise

I nod. I hope so too.

It'shours later that I keep pacing around my room, waiting for Enzo to be done with his meeting. The cook, Melissa, had offered to take both Claudia and Luca shopping. Since this is all new to Claudia, I'd agreed, especially when she'd assured me they would be accompanied by several bodyguards.

My palms are sweaty, and when a maid comes to let me know Enzo's called for me, I try to compose myself to the best of my abilities. I go down the stairs and see Enzo with a cigarette in his mouth. He nods his head towards his office.

"How did it go?" I whisper.

"He agreed, but only after he talks to you. He said he wants to get your express consent."

The moment I hear that, it's like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

"Really?" My hopeful tone must be too obvious, because Enzo grimaces.

"I don't like this," he reiterates. "But it's the only solution to our problems." He takes a deep drag of his cigarette. "Go on. Settle his mind, and we'll convene to discuss the details."

Leaving Enzo behind, I head towards his office. With a deep breath, I muster the courage and knock on the door before opening it.

Marcello is with his back towards the door, sitting leisurely on a chair.

My heart races as I tentatively greet him, my voice laced with nervousness. He slowly turns around, and his piercing gaze travels up and down my figure. Suddenly, I feel self-conscious in my simple blue Sunday dress that reaches my ankles. It cinches at the waist, giving me a slight hint of definition.

My palms feel clammy and I try to discreetly wipe them on the fabric of my dress.

Marcello rises from his chair and gestures for me to take a seat across from him. As I step forward, I extend my hand in greeting. But he only spares it a passing glance before fixing his intense gaze back on my face. Feeling foolish, I quickly retract my hand and smooth down my dress awkwardly again before taking a seat. Does he not like what he sees? Why isn't he saying anything?

"Catalina." He nods at me, finally breaking the tense silence as he settles into his chair.

"My brother must have informed you of the circumstances," I begin, trying to maintain a calm facade despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Marcello looks just as handsome as when I last saw him...maybe even more so up close. His warm whiskey-colored eyes meet mine, and I realize that I hadn't noticed their depth before.

His gray suit gives off an air of sophistication and his groomed hair adds to his overall sleek appearance. Once again, I can't help but wonder what he sees when he looks at me. ShouldI have worn makeup? But having never really worn any before, I wouldn't know how to apply it anyway.

"He has," he replies, his voice sending shivers down my spine. There's a husky quality to his tone that makes me want to ask more questions just so he'd keep on talking.

He leans back in his seat, still observing me. I try awfully hard not to fidget under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Are you agreeable to this match?" His voice is smooth and confident, and I find myself nodding without hesitation.

"Yes." But a wave of guilt washes over me. He probably doesn't know... "But before we go any further, there's something I need to tell you. You can decide if you still want to marry me after." I steal a glance at him, but his expression remains nonchalant. He simply nods, and I take a deep breath.

"I'm not..." I pause, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not pure," I finally blurt out.

There's a flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by indifference. "That doesn't matter to me."

"But that's not all. I have a daughter..."

"Enzo mentioned that," he interrupts. There's an intensity in his gaze that sends shivers down my spine. Gathering my courage, I continue.

"I won't be separated from her." He nods understandingly.

We sit in silence for a moment as he takes me in.

"How old is your daughter?"

"She's nine and a half," I reply, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "She's very well-behaved; she won't cause you any trouble," I add hastily. Perhaps he assumed my daughter was an infant or toddler, and I can understand why he might hesitate.

His eye twitches for a split second before he turns away slightly.

"What's her name?"

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