Page 5 of Promise Maker

I rush inside, barely greeting Mathew in thefoyer. I have just a few minutes to change, so I bustle upstairs to my bedroom.

Slithering out of the jeans and floral top, I haulon my elegantnavy bluedress, put my curls into aneat bun, touch up my makeup, and grab my heels, moseying downstairs afterwardto find Dad.

I slow my steps at the urgent voices coming fromhis office. Italian accents. Not sure why my heart skips a beat when Dad meetswith Italians often.

“You need to listen, Bishop,” a more mature andfamiliar voice says. “He’s serious. That bastard wants your territory, andsomeone is going behind your back.”

“I got it covered,” Dad argues in return. He’s astubborn man, so I know he’ll refuse help if that’s what they’re offering.

“Suit yourself. Call me if you need me.”

The office door opens, and I stop breathing asfamiliar sepia eyes lock with mine.

Oh my god! It’shim.

He’s back.

Domenico Martelli.

Both men pause before me.

“Solari,” Mr. Martelli greets, briefly glancing athis son. “It is lovely to see you. It’s been a long time.” He leans in, kissingmy cheek. “Look at you. You’re no longer a little one.”

“Hm.” I manage a smile.

Domenico doesn’t utter a word, standing behind hisfather, staring at me.

He’s so much more handsome, which I never thoughtcould be possible. He has a soft beard. His dark hair is the same length, justmore tousled. Thick brows and long lashes over sharp aged eyes.

He appears more muscular in features and built.

My gosh.

He’s…aman.

And he’s more. So much more.

Why the fuck is my heart and stomach fluttering soridiculously?

“Your father says you did well in your studies,”Mr. Martelli goes on.

I clear my throat and fight for sanity. “Um, yes.I worked hard to make Dad proud.” My gaze reverts to Domenico like a magneticpull.

Isn’t he going to acknowledge me?

Talk to me, you fucker.

“Well, take care,cara,”Mr. Martelli says with a kind pat on my arm. “Please.”

He seems concerned.

I gasp as they walk past me. Domenico stilldoesn’t say a word. Not even a glance back at me.

Meanwhile, I’m shuddering in heat from simplycatching a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

He shadows his father to the end of the passageand turns at the corner.

I hear Mathew ushering them out the front door.

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