Page 62 of His Two Hidden Masks

I felt numb. All traces of the man he was before I left him on the altar were gone. He was more than broken-hearted. Roberto was hell bent on revenge, and I now feared that my entire family was in his crosshairs.

12

Itook all my worries about Roberto and the security video with Dylan and stuffed them deep down inside a chocolate box in my mind. I closed the lid.

I realized compartmentalizing my feelings was not a great long-term strategy, but I also needed to focus on things I could control. I did the most obvious thing in the world. I made boxes and boxes and boxes of caramels.

Pink salted caramels. Black salted caramels. Lavender rosemary caramels. Jalapeño caramels. Raspberry caramels. Black currant caramels. Gold leaf caramels. Roberto’s attack unleashed a confidence and a creative fire inside me that shut down my tendency to over-think or hesitate. I was bold and I liked it.

I poured candies into molds like a machine. My body moved with a meditative rhythm and focus. Standing beside the thick marble countertops in the kitchen, all my worries and concerns evaporated.

I inhaled the magical scent of melting sugar mix with the more complex aroma of chocolate. This was still my heaven and I refused to allow Roberto to tarnish it.

I dipped squares of hardened caramel into creamy chocolate, filling tray after tray with cooling candies. I moved quickly, sprinkling toppings across the wet chocolate, dashes of sea salt, edible dried lavender, and flakes of gold leaf.

Next, I boxed the candies, nestling each Bella Baci in folded paper, adding a thin sheet of gold tissue paper just under the lid. I planned to deliver dozens of these new flavors to the glass factory, to Andiamo, and to the Mia Sorella per my regular delivery schedule. The new boxes would have to wait. For now, my Bella Baci remained in simple white boxes tied with elegant gold ribbons.

It was close to ten a.m. when the door to the restaurant opened with a whoosh. I had almost forgotten all my worries when Lissa walked into the kitchen, carrying a tray.

“I brought you a cappuccino and a brioche,” she said, placing a tray on the crowded counter beside my caramel assembly line.

“Thank you,” I said, aware of my growling stomach. I had worked for five hours straight and was famished.

Lissa smiled and leaned against the counter. “I know you get up early, and I assumed you got straight to work and probably gave no thought to taking a break.”

“I didn’t,” I said, taking a bite of the buttery and flaky brioche. “I just can’t quit this, Lissa. Not yet.”

“I know.” She sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Which is why I feel terrible about my next request.”

“Just tell me,” I said, wiping the sweat off my brow with the sleeve of my chef’s coat. “It can’t be any worse than my conversation with Roberto this morning.”

“I don’t know, it might be.” She grimaced. “Your father wants to see you in his office.”

My heart seized. This was most likely worse than Roberto. My father had avoided extraneous one-on-one conversation with me for six months.

I banished the thought that Roberto had shared with my father a video of Dylan fucking me on a marble countertop at the Lido Glass Factory. Why hadn’t I thought about security cameras last night?

“Did he say about what?” I finished my brioche and walked to the sink to wash my hands. Lissa followed me.

“I didn’t ask,” she said, “not that he would have told me, anyway.” She stopped and inhaled. “It smells so delicious in here, Bella. You know your chocolates are ridiculously good.”

“Try one,” I said, pointing to a tray of the Black Sea salt caramels.

“Really?” She picked up one of the dark chocolates. The salt glittered when she held it up to the light. “It’s gorgeous.”

“They are gorgeous,” I said, allowing myself a moment of pride. “Never regret chocolate for breakfast.” I bit into the caramel, the glorious pop and crunch of salt melting in my mouth. It was the perfect contrast to the sweet. “This will probably be the best part of my day.”

“Mine, too.” Lissa closed her eyes and exhaled, as if she never wanted to wake.

We finished our chocolate and looked at each other like friends stalling with a long goodbye at the train station.

“Well, I know I shouldn’t keep him waiting.” I glanced around the kitchen. It wasn’t a terrible time to break. “Can you please help me move these trays into the walk-in so they don’t disappear? I’ll come back and box up the rest of them later.”

“Love to,” Lissa said. “But once again, I demand payment in chocolate for my time.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing. Together, we placed all the trays on the cool, silver shelves of the walk-in. I negotiated with Auntie Aurora for shelf space, which I hoped she wouldn’t regret after she saw my fifteen trays crowd out her tomato sauce.

“One sec,” I said, unbuttoning my chef’s coat and hanging it on a hook by the back door. I checked my reflection in the window and unraveled my messy bun, deciding to redo my hair into a high ponytail. It wasn’t easy without a brush. My father did not like untidiness.

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