Page 70 of Gilded Saint

“The rumor is that Massimo isn’t happy with your father for giving you to Leo.”

“Because of Leandro?”

“That’s the rumor. He doesn’t feel respected or some such bullshit. But Leandro hasn’t been around. Some say he left on business. But…”

“Scarlet, just say it.”

“Others say he went to find you. Aunt Ludovica must’ve heard that rumor. And maybe there’s more to it than what I’ve heard if her security detail was near.” She’s right. Mamma doesn’t like them nearby.

“You think he’d go after Mamma? Where’s Papa?”

“He’s away on business.”

“Well, that’s normal.” But as I say it, unease takes residence in the pit of my stomach.

“No one’s questioning your father’s absence. But, given everything, just be careful, okay?”

“Why did you say that? Do you think Massimo hurt him?”

“Don’t let your imagination run wild. The rumors are about Leandro’s absence.”

“What would Leandro even do if he found me? I’m married.”

“That man is a psychopath. It’s a good thing you’re in another country.” Movement in the doorway catches my attention. It’s John, peering in.

“Do you need anything? I’m going to the lavatory,” he says.

“No, I’m good,” I tell him.

“Don’t leave until I return.” He pulls the door closed and the lock clicks.

“Was that your security?”

“Yes,” I answer, frowning at the locked door.

“How is married life?”

I rest back against the chair, scanning the ceiling. My cheeks warm as I remember last night.

“It’s good.”

“You’re one of the lucky ones. An arranged marriage that delivered love?”

“I don’t think they’re as rare as you believe.”

“Oh, trust me, they’re rare.”

She’s jaded, but after her experience, I can’t blame her for her views.

I could tell her I’m falling for him, but it’s unlikely he will reciprocate, and without reciprocation, it feels hollow or foolish. I don’t want to be foolish.

He’s concerned about my age and reminds me daily that this is temporary. Not that I would ever share these details with Scarlet. I love her, but she’d leap into protective big sister mode. And there’s no need to say the falling bit out loud.

Our conversation reverts to Italian, and we talk a while longer, with her filling me in on mundane details. It’s a gorgeous day in Italy with blue skies. She’s been swamped at work due to some tax deadlines. She works within Titan Shipping’s accounting department, and it often sounds like she carries the department. Dad recruited her years ago, not long after Vincent’s death. She’d been listless, and my mother feared she suffered from depression.

When our call ends, I resume painting.

I’ve never understood Scarlet wanting to work for my father as a bookkeeper, because to me, working with spreadsheets all day would be torture. She’d been training as a nurse, but that required she come into close contact with the Lupi Grigi men, and, as she once told me, the men she comes into contact with in the office are preferable, and in the office, she doesn’t have to touch them.

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