Page 124 of His Two Hidden Masks

Yes, I could wait to divorce him until another day.

30

Dylan and I stood hand-in-hand at the front gate to the Mia Sorella. Leo thought of everything, including packing me a wedding “go” bag. I had fresh clothes, a toothbrush, and even my favorite facial creams.

The square was full of Carnival remnants. A few costumed people slept on a bench. The colored lights were still up and streamers littered the cobblestones.

The beautiful party was over. We were all emerging from a dream, and before us stood a door that led to the real world.

“You ready for this?” I asked, leaning into him, my head resting just below his shoulder.

After he had made me come, I had taken him in my mouth and sucked him until he’d come shuddering and shaking. I could still taste him.

“Yes.” He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s get in there before my brother loses his fucking shit.”

“You think he hasn’t already?”

“Oh, absolutely yes, but I’ve never felt so ready to face the wrath of my older brother.”

“You are really hung up on those six minutes,” I said.

“Oh, yes.” He laughed. “That son of a bitch never lets me forget it.”

“Ready?” I said, stepping ahead of him, pulling his hand.

“Always,” he said.

I opened the gate.

Inside, the lobby was quiet. A couple sat in the peacock green loveseat, drinking Bloody Marys, eyes puffy with a hangover.

Paolo stood at the front desk in his gray suit and white shirt. His eyes darted between me and Dylan, and his brows did a quick dance. I smiled and nodded as we walked to the desk.

“Is it true?” Paolo asked, pointing at the two of us.

“Yes, it is.” Dylan nodded.

“Congratulations,” Paolo said, looking pleased. “And I understand that you are also a musician, Mr. Strand.”

“It was a big night, Paolo,” I said.

“If the night ended in your happiness, I would consider it a success,” Paolo said.

“Are they upstairs?” I said, nodding toward the marble staircase.

“Oh, yes. They were all in the ballroom last night, until,” he paused, “until the news broke. You surprised them, Isabella Carmen,” he said, leaning toward me, “but not me. I knew that if anyone could find a way to fix things, it would be you. And you will be good to her,” he said to Dylan. He wasn’t asking a question.

Dylan coughed and stood taller. “Of course,” he said.

“Good,” Paolo said. “She is a jewel, a gem.”

“The rarest,” Dylan said. He reached over to brush a hair off my face. His touch sent goosebumps down my body.

I reached across the counter on tiptoes and threw my arms around Paolo’s neck, pulling him into a quick hug. I kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice low. “How angry is Papa?”

“Furious,” he said, shrugging. “But everyone here is thrilled. We know what you did for us, for our families. Your mother explained what would have happened if the deal had gone through.”

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