Page 157 of Wounded King
"So you like it?" Marcello presses again.
"Oh yes, I think the right people could turn this place…" I trail off, watching him tap away on his phone. "What are you doing?"
"Buying this place."
I blink. "What?"
"You said it could be made into something nice." He's still engrossed with his texts.
"I said therightpeople could," I clarify. "With a lot of money," I add to make sure he understands.
He looks up, and his eyes twinkle with mischief. "You said your dream was to restore houses and sell them."
"Ah, yes, but," I stare at him. Is he really offering me my dream?
"How much do you think it'll cost to restore this place?"
"Oh my God, Marcello," panic floods me. "I have no idea. I thought about buying a little house, restoring it as I live there… this place? It'll probably cost a million or more."
"Okay," he holds out the phone to me, "sign here."
"Sign what?" My heart palpitates. What is he doing?
I stare at the screen he's holding out to me. "Belladomus by Violet?"
"Belladomus means beautiful home." He explains.
"By Violet?" I clarify.
"Your new company."
"My new company?" I feel like a parrot.
"Violet, if it were up to me, I'd be happy to keep you at home twenty-four seven, rearing our children and eating bonbons, but I don't think that's you." Marcello looks me in the eyes. "If you want, you can go back and work as a nurse, but I don't think that's you anymore, either. You can spend as little or as much time as you wish with this company. It's yours. This is Alice's phone number; she's your PA. She's been in the construction industry for a while and has the right contacts. She starts tomorrow. Just tell her what you want done, and she'll make the arrangements."
I stare at him, open-mouthed. "You bought me my dream?"
He shrugs. "I want you to be happy."
"You bought me my dream," I reiterate.
"As of right now, the company has three million in funds available. Let me know if you need more, and I'll be happy to?—"
With a squeal, I sling my arms around him and jump. He catches me easily enough, his hands keep my butt up in the air, while my legs cross around his waist.
"Violet, I don't think you should?—"
Again, he can't finish, I press my lips to his and kiss him like it's our last kiss on Earth. It doesn't take long for him to respond. He presses me against him, letting me know I'm the greatest treasure in his life.
"I can't believe you did this for me," I say, tears rolling down my face when I come up for air.
"I'd do anything for you, cara mia."
He would, too. This man, who kills people in cold blood, who can be brutal and ruthless, is the greatest person who has ever walked into my life. It's not that he bought me my dream, it's that he's given all this so much thought that gets me. How can someone who feeds people to sharks be so thoughtful and know that I wouldn't be happy sitting at homeeating bonbons,as he so creatively described? And he didn't stop there. I was a nurse when we met—hisnurse—and I told him of my dream to one day renovate old houses, but he made it a reality because he's considerate and cares about me. I don't think anybody has ever cared about me like this man does.
"Are you happy?" His smirk tells me that he doesn't really need to ask; my happiness has to be written all over my face.
"Yes. I'm so happy it scares me. It scares me to think someone might?—"
