Page 83 of Heartless Sinner

His hand slides to my lower back, providing an extra layer of reassurance, and we walk toward the steps.

I may be nervous as hell, but I can’t wait to tell Dad and Lucy about all this. I wish they were here.

We reach the doors, and they swing open before us, revealing a foyer so vast it makes me dizzy. Three crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling above us, their lights dancing across the floors in intricate patterns.

The walls showcase gilt-framed paintings that belong in museums—I recognize a Caravaggio—and mirrors tall enough to reflect entire worlds.

“Micah,” a hearty female voice greets us with a slight Italian accent.

I look ahead to see a beautiful woman rushing toward us with her arms outstretched.

“Ma.” Micah releases me and hugs her when she reaches us while I stare at the woman, unable to contain my surprise that she’s his mother.

She looks like she could be in her early forties. At least.

The more I stare at them, the more I see the resemblance. I’m still surprised, though. She looks so young.

She has luscious black hair that looks like a rose garden, bright blue Disney princess eyes, a snatched waistline most twenty-year-olds would kill for, and an impeccable sense of style.

She speaks to Micah in Italian, touching his cheeks and reaching up to ruffle his hair. I like the interaction between them.

I like it even more when she looks at me and gives me a warm smile.

She reminds me of Victoria Grayson inRevengebut with a softer personality. I get the impression that she has some bite, and she’ll put you in your place if you cross her.

“Ma, this is Scarlett James, my fiancée.” Micah motions to me and I put on my shiniest smile, hoping I can win her over. “Scarlett, this is my mother, Genevieve Delarosa.”

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you.” There’s a slight quiver in my voice, but I amplify my smile hoping it will mask my nerves.

“Buonasera, the pleasure is mine.” Genevieve steps forward and gives me a quick hug. “My dear, my son forgot to tell me how beautiful you are.”

“Thanks so much. So are you.”

“That’s kind of you.” Her smile is as gracious and humble as her response, but I sense she must know she’s beautiful. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

“Thank you for inviting me to your home. It’s incredibly beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She glances at Micah, who seems pleased at the way our conversation is going so far. “Now, I couldn’t believe you were the same Scarlett James fromAll My Yearsuntil Micah told me. I can’t believe you’re here in my home. I adored you on that show so much I went out to L.A. to watch you in your stage show.”

My mouth almost hits the floor and I experience several emotions at once, but shock consumes me the most.

I could never imagine that Micah’s mom could have liked me or my acting so much that she would even know me or support me. Hearing what she did is so much more than an unexpected surprise, and I’m tongue tied.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you know my work,” I rasp, pressing my hand to my heart as the warmth of hope blooms in my chest.

“Of course. You had a big part inAll My Years. I’m sure many people must recognize you.” She looks at me expectantly as if I should know what she’s saying is true.

She’s right. People still recognize me from time to time even though my fame dried up quite a bit while I was with Anton. Working at the diner and the cleaning agency didn’t help either. Sometimes, I would find myself denying who I was because it was embarrassing to let people see how far I’d fallen. Me, a big star in the making, scrubbing floors and toilets and serving greasy food that was barely fit for human consumption.

“It’s been a while,” I decide to say and glance at Micah, who nods at me.

“Well, I want to hear all about it, and how one of my favorite actresses ended up meeting my son.”

“I’d love that.” I smile back at her, although I’m still nervous and don’t want to say the wrong things, the genuine look of interest she gives me makes me think I’ll be okay.

“We’ll talk after dinner.” She nods with excitement.

“Thanks, Mrs. Delarosa.”

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